


Hannibal the Ca(t)nnibal

by Doctor_Whore



Series: We are more animal than you believe [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Also crack cause there was no way not to add it to cat-eared Hannibal, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Fucked up deaths, If you can call it the thing what is happening here, M/M, Not Beta Read, Psychology, Soulmates, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23962477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Whore/pseuds/Doctor_Whore
Summary: We have Will Graham, a human profiler with empathy disorder and Hannibal Lecter, a psychiatrist who is also a were-cat. Will their journey be a simple doctor-patient relationship? Well of course not! I'm gonna twist this shit as much as I can.''Don't they say curiosity killed the cat?''But satisfaction brought it back, isn't it?''It's almost finished work that I will be posting randomly.In need of beta reader to finish this thing and just finally post it whole.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: We are more animal than you believe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809538
Comments: 28
Kudos: 191





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I have created a whole universe on one pic of Hannibal with cat ears. I will go down with this ship like a true captain.  
> I hope that you will enjoy this ride as much as I did and still do.  
> Your kudos make my heart melt, but your comments make it sing https://youtu.be/U6vFGbwL7lw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your amazing beta work [Dorian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorian_The_Grey/pseuds/Dorian_The_Grey)!   
> <(_ _*)> You have my gratitude.

There are 3 types of were-people:

Type I-fere-human (from Latin fere-almost), with heightened senses and instincts. For example, the acute sense of smell of a bloodhound for were-dog-people, or when in dangerous situations, the fight or flight response is much more intense than in humans. The amount of produced noradrenalin, adrenalin, and cortisol are 2-3 times higher than in typical human reactions to the same stimulus. To flight response, those non-humans can develop speed up to 60km/h, and to fight response, they can go for hours and lift up to 300kg when the situation requires it.

Type II-were-animals have the same features as type I and the typical organs for their animal species. E.g., a were-cattle has a 4 chambered stomach, or were-fish have gills. Some of the organs are only interior, but some are exterior, oftentimes it depends on the amount of their predecessor's DNA. Sometimes they can have animal ears instead of human ones, tails, scales, feathers, etc.

Type-III-adsimulohuman (from Latin adsimulo-imitate/pretend, meaning that animals were pretending they were humans), the rarest of were-people. Only around 600 in the world are registered. Still, no one knows if it's an accurate number as many can resemble a human, animal, or any of the were-people. They are the most sought after when it comes to research as often they can change their appearance by sheer will. In either form, they possess a human's intellect and every aspect they want from their animal anatomy. Even so, they are controlled by their instincts, so they are often dangerous.

The speciesism toward were-people was from time immemorial. Still, the first evidence of them existing came with early human art- Ancient Egypt, China, Mesopotamia. At that time, they were often treated as gods or demons. Probably depending on the characteristics of said were-person. After the Golden Age for were-people came Dark Ages full of fear, pain, and death as people wanted to get rid of the old gods. Because of this, were-people were viewed as witches, warlocks, and demons. Then they started to be treated like pets or slaves. Pets, often called thoroughbreds, as their masters wanted them to be little more than animals, are almost animalistic in their intellect and appearance. Slaves were bred like livestock depending on features their master desired. Now, most of the were-people are descendants of those slaves. The thoroughbreds are non-existent as most of them became infertile or entirely animals. The last of their known descendants died 200 years ago.

Now were-people are still under surveillance but are free people, as 80 years ago the Law of Freedom to All was passed. They have the same laws as free people; the only difference is that they have to register at WPSGO-were-people surveillance government office.

There's still discrimination in the world towards were-people, but with knowledge comes acceptance of difference between our species.

The fragment of "Introduction to were-culture and evolution" by Veronica L. Vasin

\------------------------------------

"Everyone has thought about killing someone in one way or another. Be it by your own hands or the hand of God." Will could feel an oppressive gaze on him and turned to see Jack Crawford through the corner of his eye. With a sigh, he looked at his watch. Still 15 minutes until the end of the lecture. Well, it looked like he'd have to wrap it up from the glare Jack was giving him. "With the existence of were-people comes the argument that it's instinct, but we have to see through such feeble excuses as animals don't kill for simple pleasure."

He knew it was a flippant jab on his side as Jack was fere-human; precisely a wolf. Alpha wolf.

"The only species known for cruelty for cruelty's sake is the human, or more precisely human mind. That's why I want you to write a profile of a were-person who uses this argument and why it isn't valid. You have till Monday." With that, Will locks his eyes on Jack's shoulder, waiting for him to come over.

He could feel irritation emanating from Crawford. That's why he hated dealing with were-people. They were even more open than ordinary people. More susceptible to instinct and emotions, not being able to control them. Almost as if venting them out. They were so loud, so overwhelming.

He always had to take at least 2 aspirin tablets after each conversation with a were-person. Each type worse than the other.

He met a type 3 once in a bayou in Louisiana and lost himself in them for 4 days. He could feel everything; he was him, he was an adsimulohuman. Or, more precisely, alligator-person. He never wanted to experience that again.

"Mr.Graham. Special Agent Jack Crawford. I head the Behavioural Science Unit." Jack's superficial demeanor changed drastically, trying to become friendly, almost like a dog. But Will could feel it, the anticipation of a wolf on the hunt. For his head, he was sure of it.

"We've met."

"Yes, we had a disagreement about the museum when we opened it." Will could feel the deep growl Jack wanted to let out with that statement. No one should undermine the Alpha wolf. At least in their opinion.

"I disagreed with what you named it."

"The Evil Minds Research Museum?"

"It's a little hammy, Jack." Will could feel he was digging his own grave, but he knew he was right. Serial killers weren't some mythical evildoers. They were people, distorted by the environment and themselves.

"You've hitched your horse to a teaching post. I understand it's not easy for you to be sociable." A low jab. Especially for the head of the Behavioural Science Unit.

"I'm just talking at them. I'm not listening to them. It's not social."

"I see. May I?"

He could feel the power dynamics that Jack played. Making eye contact through straightening his glasses only for Will to shift it as fast as possible. Fight won by not holding eye contact was the most common in canine. It didn't matter. Will knew even if he could keep it, it would only make Crawford more fierce in acquiring what he wanted from Will.

"Where do you fall on the spectrum?"

"My horse is hitched to a post closer to Aspergers and Autistics than narcissists and sociopaths."

"But you can empathize with narcissists and sociopaths."

And there it was—finally, the wolf shedding its lambskin.

"I can empathize with anybody. Less to do with personality disorders than an active imagination."

The smile, in turn, for this answer was more of a wolf's grin than anything.

"Can I borrow your imagination?"

And that was it, the final nail in his proverbial coffin.

\------------------------------------

Walking through the halls of the FBI Academy grounds, Will can feel the developing migraine. Jack's inhibitions are discarded as he struts through his territory. Everything was open for Will to read, even if he didn't want to.

"Eight were-people from throughout Pennsylvania were abducted in the last 3 months."

"I thought there were seven."

"There were."

"When did you tag the eighth?"

"About three minutes before I walked into your lecture hall."

"You're calling them 'abductions' because you have no bodies?"

"We have nothing. No bodies. No body parts. Nothing that comes out of a body. We have lonely swabs in used evidence kits."

"Then they weren't taken from where you think they were taken."

"Where were they taken from?"

Jack's irritation was palpable. Emitting it through every word, every movement, every pore. He'll have to get himself something stronger than aspirin.

"I don't know. Someplace else."

They finally get to Jack's office. The corkboard presented itself in the center of the space. Map showing probable location of "abduction" with a picture of each were-person and a short profile. Above it was a timeline of the disappearances.

"All abducted on different days and times of the day, so they reported quite quickly. Even though we found out about it quickly, he covers his tracks exceptionally well."

He looks at each victim: each a different gender and skin colour, the ages wavering anywhere from 18 to 30. The only connection from the photos is their attractiveness. Lean, strong features. Beautiful in their own unique way for each person. Almost animalistic in their sharpness. He looks at the profiles. He's looking for one key for this lock.

"They are all type 2-were-animals." This is the key. But Jack already knows it.

"That's the only link." Jack agrees, "The WP Association wants to strangle us. At this rate, all were-people will leave Pennsylvania, and there's not much of them there anyway. They think it's some kind of witch hunt made by extremists of speciesism. The problem is that there's no evidence for this or any other theory."

"The extremist would choose them only by two features."

"Two?"

Will sighs. How could they not see another link? It was oblivious. At least for him.

"The beauty."

"Hmm...I wouldn't say that. They feel too...sharp."

"And that's the point. They're more animal than human. They're beautiful in their own unique way."

He looks at a timeline and then at the pictures. In his mind's eye, he catalogs them. Slowly each piece falls into place.

"The first victim, Emily Petrichov, was type 2, but look at her features. I mean all her body. No exterior animal traits, only interior bird skeleton, thin and hollow bones. Even you can admit she looks adorable. Small in posture and underweight, even for were-swallow. It's an easy prey but also something beautiful in its delicacy. Compare it to the last victim, Mohammed Adebayo. He has many hyena characteristics, rounded animal ears, bone-crushing teeth, and obviously more muscled mandible and maxilla, also half-developed paws instead of feet."

"It means he is escalating?"

Why couldn't he see it?! He was presenting it to Jack on a golden platter!

"No. He's finally found his goal. His golden ticket to perfection. He wants someone who resembles type 3 as much as possible or is a type 3. He isn't gonna stop till he gets it."

"Then we have a huge problem. We have to focus then on the last victim."

Jack's intensive gaze shifted from the board to Will. He looked Will straight in the eyes, and of course, he had to turn away from it. He had had enough of Jack's emotions for one day.

"I'd like you to get closer to this."

He fucking knew it would end up like this. Hook, line, sinker. To the bottom of the ocean. Idiotic eye contact fight. Still, he could try to wiggle out from it.

"You have Heimlich at Harvard and Bloom at Georgetown. They do the same thing I do."

"That's not really true, is it? You have a specific way of thinking."

"Has there been a lot of discussion about the specific way I think?"

He could feel his brain boiling from the were-person presence; with that came snappiness.

"You make jumps you can't explain, Will."

"The evidence explains."

"Then help me find some evidence."

He looks away, pretending to think it over. It wouldn't even matter if he did. Jack's opinion was above his, at least for him. He had already lost. There was no point in dragging it on.

"That may require me to be sociable."

\------------------------------------

The next day they are in Philadelphia, where their last victim worked as an art conservator in the Philadelphia Museum of Art at 9 AM. As they make their way through the museum, Will feels his anxiety rising up. He hates dealing with people, notably morning ones. He never knows what to do or what to say. He knows it's rude and awkward, which makes it even worse. Better go for a cold detective attitude. Even though he still has to flex his fingers and fidgets like some unremarkable teenager before asking a girl to prom.

When they get to the staff room Jack changes his demeanour completely, becoming more subservient and open. It was so superficial and manipulative Will wanted to barf. Jack goes on with the interview; everything Will hears is the same as in the report, so he walks around the room only hearing conversation but not listening to it.

"He was a workaholic. Always wanting to finish the project as fast as possible. Not being able to pause even for a night. Sometimes he spent two nights in a row on the renovation of a particular piece. I had never met someone so passionate about this work."

Walking beside a conservation table Will stops.

"Why is this work left out?" Will looks at the victim's co-worker expectantly, "From what I know, this type of painting shouldn't be out drying without another layer of preservative."

"Oh, yes. That's quite right, but we don't know which preservative Mohammed used, so we waited for him to get back to work to finish it himself. He always gets angry when someone else tries to finish his work. After not hearing from him it was too hectic to care about it."

Will looks at the painting and rewinds the conversation a bit, " _ Always wanting to finish the project as fast as possible." _

"Jack," Will looks him in the eyes. Looks like Crawford hadn't connected the dots yet. "He got him here. Probably after closing hours, when Mohammed stayed late to finish this painting. He was probably working on it when they grabbed him."

Jack looks at him for a minute. Finally connecting each dot, creating the image. There weren't many people who could get into the staff room. One needed a passcard to enter. Also, there were cameras everywhere. He left the room hurriedly, probably to call the team and get a warrant. Will sighed and started to look for aspirin in his pocket. He was in for a long and draining night with a few too many were-people.

\------------------------------------

They got to the scene the next day. The problem was, they were left a little present throughout the night. Two bodies found by the janitor, left beside Mohammed's unfinished painting. 

Miles Long and a John Doe. 

The fifth victim of "abduction" was draped above the still fresh body of a John Doe in a mocking rendition of Rubens  **"Prometheus Bound."** Looks like it would be worse than he thought. Long's body was unnaturally contorted in imitation to the eagle's, a false replication of life. His body had been taxidermied but in an unprofessional fashion, probably by a novice. He held strips of Doe's liver in his teeth, messily ripped from the body in mimicry of being done by a beak. John Doe was lying on a bag full of trash and attached with thin wires in Prometheus's familiar pose. Everything was recreated as perfect as one could besides the background.

Will waited for Jack to clear the site so he could "do his thing." He felt like a circus pony reacting to children shouting, "Do a trick!" It was humiliating on too many levels for him to think about. 

Better left alone with his demons than all those were-people from the FBI and the local police.

When everybody had vacated the scene, he closed his eyes and let the pendulum swing. 

One, two, three.

The bodies disappeared, the room rearranging itself, back to the beginning.

_ 'I have to prepare a scene. I use what is available on site. I know what is and isn't, I made sure of that. They won't be able to track me by any of those props; I know what they would be looking for. I drape the human body first. He is beautiful, for a human, he deserves to be a Titan in my artwork, but he's not important. He will perish as I don't want him to overshadow my  _ true _ artwork. Still but not, alive but not, made to be that way for the end of time, and perfect but not. He is what I wanted, but it's not enough. I want more instinct than that, but I won't fake it. Its natural beauty is meant to be preserved, not overshadowed by falsehoods. He is something more, a creature worthy of punishing even a Titan without repercussions. Worthy of the highest gods. I take my time because everything must be perfect. No one will come and see before I want them to. This is my first public artwork, and it can't be anything but. Let me show them true beauty. This is my design.' _

He opens his eyes and feels another's on him. Glancing to the right, Will sees an Asian woman watching him.

"You're Will Graham."

"You're not supposed to be in here."

The worst part of it is she was type 2, emanating curiosity.

"You wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity." She says, not paying much attention to his back sass in any capacity. And then: "I found calamus in the puncture wound." She cocks her head to the side and observes him. He can feel that she's an owl. "You're not real FBI?"

He looks her in the eyes, challenging her, even though it doesn't work that way with birds.

"I'm a special investigator."

"Never been an FBI agent?"

"Strict screening procedures."

He says through grit teeth and looks away, correcting his glasses. Better to admit it than for people to look into it.

"Detects instability. You unstable?" He knows it's only a curiosity. Owl's are just this way, always poking around; it's in their nature. At least he doesn't have to answer that as Jack comes in seething with anger.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

"Found calamus in two of the tiny wounds. Like the victim was supposed to have them, but then they were torn out. Was looking for it in the other wounds in his arm but I was interrupted." She said with annoyance in her voice.

"Type 2 birds often have feather placodes and pinfeathers if not fully developed feathers." A middle-aged man interjects with interest, following in after Jack.

"He was a were-eagle alright, but there were no exterior features connected with feathers on him. And if I'm not wrong, calamus are in fully developed feathers."

Will looks closer at the tiny puncture wounds that are, in fact, artificially dilated pores.

"He changed his design. It was almost perfect but not natural, and the point is for it to be natural." With that statement, he feels everyone's eyes on him. 

Shit. Will sighed. This is going to be a long day indeed.

"So what? He wanted him to become an eagle?" Jack asks in confusion. "Why not getting an eagle?"

"No to the first question. And answering the second one, he wants something closer to God. He sees him as a pinnacle of God's creation, but he doesn't have enough attributes for it to be shown in his artwork. He wanted to give him wings, but it would be fake. And everything had to be pure, organic, and perfect."

Again he feels like a pony in a circus. All eyes on him and the overwhelming pressure of their conflicting emotions after his performance made him want to curl up on the cold floor and vomit. He opts for aspirin instead. The profiler found a bottle in his pocket before shaking it; It's empty, just his luck.

With a sigh, he asks, "Does anyone have any Aspirin?"

\------------------------------------

That night he finds Winston. Another addition to his pack of strays. Embodiments of love and happiness that don't pressure him like people, or even worse, were-people. With his pack, he can breathe again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway next chapter- the meeting of our loveable but fucked in the head main leads


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be one hell of a first meeting, I tell ya that!

One's mate in the animal kingdom is chosen through fight or skills like nest building or mating dance. As the evolution of were-people advanced, they had more human DNA than animals. It is believed that hybridisation came into being around 50 million years ago as species started to mix between each other producing minuscule amounts of fertile offspring. After that everything came down to natural selection which prioritized homo sapiens in the end. Mortality of were-people offspring was and still is quite high but with breeding between were-people came with fewer complications allowing healthy offspring. That's why there are 3 types, allowing us to see the different proportion of homo sapiens ancestry in each type.

Also, a great factor playing in the survival of were-people is their sense of smell sensitized to pheromones of a compatible mate. The more future mate is "perfect" in biological and mental capacity the more pheromones can influence the behaviour of were-person and probability of healthy offspring.

The chapter "Where do babies come from?" of " Introduction to were-culture and evolution" by Veronica L. Vasin

\------------------------------------

He felt as if he was drowning. Not only Jack but Beverly started bombarding him with their mental state. Every word directed toward him oozing frustration from Jack and scepticism and curiosity from Beverly. He felt like he was choking on them. So much that he ran away from the cramped space of the lab.

The only pieces of information they got from the scene were about the cause of death-strangulation of a John Doe who turned out to be one of the janitors in the museum and overdosage of isoflurane for Mr Long.

Maybe he could drown in this sink. He didn't know how long he held his face under the surface of the water in it. The migraine slowly ebbed away thanks to the coolness of the water. It was pulsating in his temples for the last few hours. It felt so good, to just not hear or see anything.

With that thought, he was yanked away from his heaven by a meaty hand on his shoulder.

'What do you think you are doing?'

The first thing he could register was Jack's voice. So it was he, who took his peacefulness once again.

'Just trying to cool my brain.'

'For me, it looked like you tried to kill yourself in a sink.'- he huffed. He stood some distance from Will reaching for a paper towel and giving it to the profiler.

'What is that supposed to be in the lab?'

Will ran a hand through his hair, already feeling pulsating pain in his temples with twofold force.

'There was too much.' he said in a resigned voice.

'Too much of what?'-now Crawford was using his wolf booming voice. Commanding and irritated. He couldn't handle it. It was too much too soon.

'That! Too much of that! You know how I react to humans! So imagine what I get from were-people, always showing every fluctuation of their mental state.'

He screamed, he knew it wasn't the best idea to yell at an Alpha wolf but he couldn't contain all these emotions that sipped into his being throughout the full day with were-people.

He took a deep breath and started to explain himself in a quieter voice.- 'The difference with were-people is that they are more open with them. At least for me. I feel overloaded with it. This case doesn't help either. I'm in a saddle but I don't know which direction I'm pointing. He loves them, thinks of them as if they are God's greatest creation but at the same time is using them as a medium for his artwork. To show the world he is a true artist. He has too many conflicting emotions and actions for me to profile him.'

He could look only at Jack's shoes, not wanting to experience each change in his mood. They stood in silence for a second and finally Jack began in the gentlest voice Will ever heard him speak.

'Okey. I get it. I don't want to break you.'

This was a low blow, Will knew he was unstable but any mention of being broken was only making more damaging for his already tiny confidence in himself.

' You need silence. You will get silence. If it is what it takes for you to find him then so be it.'

And with that, he left. Will felt like a deflated balloon. He hoped Jack's words weren't just words.

\------------------------------------

As Hannibal was waiting for his unique future patient, he started revising facts about him from Jack's brief introduction.

He also read a file on him but it was lacking spectacularly. Someone with such a high level of intelligence as Will Graham definitely wouldn't allow easy access to his mind. It only made him more wanting to take this challenge.

He briefed information on the board on Were-taxidermist, as the media started to describe him. He was an artist alright, but more than anything he was struggling with his desires and that will be his downfall. After the first mistake in his replica of "Prometheus Bound" there will be more, also more prominent.

He would give him one month. He is too invested and disoriented to produce masterpieces without flaws.

It was fairly ironic that the F.B.I used one serial killer to help to catch another.

Not that they would ever be aware of it. Hannibal could taste the sweetness and acidity of it on his tongue. Such a heady combination of flavours. He just loved it, seeing it in each and every part of life.

He looked at his watch and then at Crawford who was going through documents.

He couldn't contain the brief irritated flick of the tip of his tail, completely lost of his companion. They already waited fifteen minutes for the profiler to come to Jack's office. Which was outright rude.

With that thought, a dishevelled profiler came in.

' I'm sorry Jack. Got many questions from students this morning.'

He flicked a brief look at Hannibal and sat without preamble, waiting for his cue as not to interrupt his and Jack's conversation about confessions.

A fleeting expression of vexation and tiredness colouring his features.

With information about Friedie Lounds and tattlecrime.com he murmured.

'Tasteless'

Interest piqued, Lecter started to prowl into his direction.

'Do you have trouble with taste?'

'My thoughts are often not tasty.'

'Nor mine. No effective barriers.'

'I build forts.'

Oh and with that, he could feel his tail’s need to twitch and ears focus forward. Nevertheless, he could control his animal instincts as much as human expressions. The challenge presented to be taken up.

He smiled secretly to himself, it would be a definitely interesting first conversation.

'Associations come quickly' he says circling Will's chair to sit beside him.

'So do forts.'

As he sits down and takes offered coffee, which is more of muddy water he leans into Will's space and takes in his smell.

The first thing Hannibal fells is as his muscles contract sharply, then relax as if melting

He doesn't feel as he loses the hold of his cup. The coffee already lukewarm can't even burn him to distract him from what his body demands him to do. All after that is like looking at the slow-motion movie without any ability to change the course of action.

He stands up, swiftly manoeuvring between chairs and just sitting in Will's lap. He can see shock and blush colouring his features, he is so lovely.

He wants to taste red patches on his cheeks but then he sees that it goes beyond them. His ears and neck and even further, probably his chest. He inhales some more of his scent and nuzzles into the exposed skin of his neck where sweat allows a more delicious scent. He can't not to taste it, licking a big stripe of skin.

The taste is even better, he nuzzles into profiler's chest, even more, feeling the heat of his body radiating from each point of contact-tights to buttocks, hands on Will's chest.

He feels like purring so he purrs, unashamed.

He needs more. He feels like it's only a few seconds when Jack's hand materialises with a handkerchief before his face. The smell of Will, of his mate, is suddenly obscured by strong herbal stench on the handkerchief.

He tries to pry it away and then it hits him.

The indignity of his actions, the control loss to instinct. The scent obscured by herbs allows him to get rid of chemicals inside his nasal mucosa. He takes the handkerchief from Jack and tries not to look at the profiler, it wouldn't do him any good right now.

He stands up slowly, his body still reluctant to abandon a warm place in Will's lap.

He doesn't normally feel shame, especially when it comes to his instincts but right now he wants to scold it like a naughty child. When he stands up, he takes a few deep breaths of herbal smell to find his equilibrium.

He looks at Will then. He is flushed and sitting still in the chair, looking a little bit lost himself.

' I must sincerely apologize for my loss of control. Never had I had such an occurrence before.' he tips his head in apology. Will doesn't say anything, just looks at his shoulder, considering. The one who answers instead is Jack.

' That was even less expected for us than for you Dr Lecter. I suspect it isn't your typical approach towards new patients.' Jack laughs.

Will looks at Crawford and the thunder behind his eyes makes Hannibal want to crawl on his lap again, to feel the growl building in Will's chest with his own hands.

' Whose profile is he working on?' is as close to an animal growl as a human can get. He looks at Jack with a look of betrayal in his eyes.

'Is this my silence Jack!? The one you are supposed to give me in plenty?'

'Will-' Jack's trying to placate him by gentling his voice but with mediocre effect. The profiler abruptly stands up and looks Hannibal straight in the eyes, defiantly.

' I understand why it happened but I would prefer it if it didn't repeat. And please don't psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go give a lecture on psychoanalyzing.'

And he left. Hannibal still could feel the wiggling feeling going through his veins at meeting his potential perfect mate. It wasn't uncommon to smell some potential mates but he never reacted in any manner that was different from his usual self. This turn of events was most centrally disconcerting.

\------------------------------------

He almost runs.

His brain hadn't processed what just happened but his body did just fine. His semi-hard on not allowing him to focus on anything beside warm feeling radiating throughout his body. Still feeling the press of the heated touch of big hands on his chest and now drying saliva on his neck. He looked at his watch and saw he had still 20 minutes until his lecture and went looking for a restroom.

He needed to cool down or he would become a laughing-stock for this lecture.

Finding one, he looked at his rumpled reflection. At least he wasn't like a tomato anymore, even if he felt warmth in his cheeks. Swiftly he corrected his appearance as much as possible and looked his reflection in the eyes. Now came a time to process what happened.

The psychiatrist, Dr Lecter, was a were-cat, but the only indications of it were his ears and tail, no emotions were given off, just mild-mannerism and a little curious probing in their banter. This was a truly strange occurrence, although not as much as what happened later.

As he was revising the events he could see the speed of dilation of his pupils in the reflection. Definitely not wanting to acknowledge it.

As in the nature of were-people, the doctor smelled him and something clicked.

Will couldn't wrap his head around it, it wasn't uncommon for were-people to find potential mates in humans but of the same gender? Well not so much. The basis of finding a mate was to procreate, of course, there were many were-people who mated with people of the same gender but not based on the scent.

Obviously, procreation wasn't in the equation so it really didn't make much sense. The knowledge that someone found his body odour so perfectly complimenting his or her own made a shudder go through his body.

The problem was also that he couldn't feel uncomfortable at that time in Jack's office. Yes, he was taken aback and tense but the direct contact with the warm body(which wasn't a dog) was so sparse in his life that he couldn't tear off the psychiatrist's body from his own.

The excuse given to Jack that it could trigger an aggressive response was plausible enough. He sat in that chair with Dr Lecter in his lap for a good 20 minutes until Jack got herbal oils which inhibited receptors in were-cat's nasal mucosa.

He could see the way the psychiatrist was reluctant to leave, and he was reluctant to let him go but it was for the best. Looking into his headspace to calm his already fried nerves at that time.

That much contact wasn't good for him, he was overloaded, but not with any one's feelings, only his own. Which at that moment was even worse.

Not wanting to examine it even more than necessary he took a few deep breaths and went to another subject on the plate- that he was supposed to have sessions with a psychiatrist who was a were-person, which was the major problem for him to work on the case.

He didn't know how that was supposed to be the silence that Jack promised him. Although, Lecter even when he lost inhibitions was radiating more animal contentment and arousal than any human emotion whatsoever. And after gaining control his eyes were like deep maroon lakes. Each emotion was hidden under the surface and showing Will only his own reflection.

That was refreshing but also peculiar, putting this fact on the back burner he took one more deep breath and went to give a lecture still remembering to address the problem if Jack tried to seek him out again.

\------------------------------------

Beverly Katz was just going through removing the stitches from Long's skin, Zeller stormed into the room.

'Listen to this, we got the results for those calamuses you found. All of them are from 3 different sources but the same family -Accipitridae , one from a bald eagle, another from caucasian and golden.-'

'Nice but that doesn't give us much to go by. They could be hunted for what we know.'

Interjected, Beverly trying to focus on the stitches, the was a human model under all this skin which could give a lot of information. There was no way someone got a human model for taxidermy out of nowhere.

'As I was saying...' backtracked Zeller with irritation ' Those exact species and few more were stolen 2 months ago from the Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh. Coincidence? I don't think so.' finished Brian with a wide grin on his face.

At that Beverly lost her interest in stitches and looked at him disbelieving.

'And you telling me that just now?!'

'I just got the results.'

'Okey, go to Jack. We have to get a warrant to get info on that case.'

The forensic technician was halfway out of the door when Beverly stopped him.

'Oh and Zeller!'

'What?'

'Great job! Keep it up!' she said with a smug smile.

'Aye, aye captain!' laughed Brian leaving Katz to her own work, which was a lot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so sorry guys I couldn't update those 2 chapters. Had a lot going on and no access to the Internet so yeah... anyway today I will add 3 chapters as a bonus for waiting and tomorrow the 4th one. I hope you will like them. Have fun and stay safe at home ^^

The smell is probably the most common basic means of animal communication with even the most primitive animals reacting to odours given off by their own or other species. This feature was also ingrained into were-people DNA even when they developed language and started using it.  
Animals may use scents to proclaim their readiness to mate, to mark out territorial boundaries, to warn off intruders and predators or, in some cases, to attract prey. The most basic substance for these purposes is strong-smelling urine, but there are other and more refined methods of producing lingering odours. These take the form of scent glands which in were-people case often are near neck area where sweat transmits pheromones.

Nowadays the scent does not dictate the way of living for were-people. It does not control them in any way and it can be ignored as for example smelling predator in were-wolf person by were-dear person. Instinct is still there but it's the same for humans, the will always is stronger.

However, it doesn't mean were-people do not use it anymore. Scent marking partners or attracting other were-people are still common practices but the same thing is done by humans when we use perfumes. Instincts mix with the will and that is something we can control.

Part of the chapter "Scent has power, but how great?" of " Introduction to were-culture and evolution" by Veronica L. Vasin

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'What we got?' asked Jack coming into the lab where Beverly, Brian and Jimmy worked on separated skin from the model of Mr Long.

'Nothing traceable besides the feathers.' answered Beverly. She felt frustrated with all that data to collect and nothing that came up which would help the case. They didn't need another Ripper in the World.

' He worked pretty hard to do arrange everything thou.' interjected Price. Jack only raised his brow at that to indicate silent order for him to continue his thought.

' The form for Mr Long skin was customized to his skeleton, which means that our taxidermist made his own moulds and then created mannequin from polyurethane foam. Well, before that he skinned the victim when he was still alive to not allow the skin to change colour, and tanned it. At least the guy didn't feel a thing because of isoflurane injection. He mounted the skin and used pretty good stitches there. However, everything used in the process is really popular on the market and anybody has access to it. Besides isoflurane, but it could be stolen or bought on the black market.' summarized Price with a smug smile.

'Well, that' s evidently a lot of work and skills. Will, which what are we working here?' asked Jack as he turned around to look at the profiler who stood in the corner of the room observing formless lump of skin scanning through meticulous stitches and precise cuts made with a hunting knife. The mannequin for the skin was amazingly realistic and had dynamism coiled in each moulded muscle.

'He takes pride in his work.' Will said looking around the room but not at the "body". ' Nothing can be done by anyone else hands but his own. He won't stop working on each art project until he reaches perfection. He didn't want him to suffer that's why he used anaesthetic. They are God's creations but also his? It's confusing. I don't know here. His concept is getting muddy like he doesn't know who he is and what he wants. That's the problem with the feathers. They shouldn't be there but also they should.'

'You know you don't make much sense there?' asked Zeller sneeringly.

'Well then try it yourself! This psychopath has so many conflicting feeling that's just bewildering. It's like I'm looking for a particular compound in the homogeneous mixture, everything is mixed with each other, is connected but also fights.'

' I am a lab tech, not a profiler but from what I got from your story and evidence is that he wants to preserve them.'

'That's one side of it. There's also the part with God, him thinking he's an artist and he hunts them-' and then it clicked 'Jack, he knows how to do it cause he's a hunter, probably for many years, making his own taxidermy mounts.'

'Then why the fifth victim was the first to be displayed?' asked Beverly with a raised brow.

'Cause he didn't know how to work with were-people skin or with the skin without fur or feathers in general.'

Will's eyes started to sparkle, the dots slowly connecting with each other.

'He probably made errors with the first 4 victims or noticed they didn't have what he wanted.'

'So where're the other ones?' Jack asked with a huff.

'They will come. He will display only those which he deems worthy.'

'You think new bodies will drop?'

'No, not now. He learned the optimal method to mount them so he will take his time to perfect them.' there was also something at the back of his mind, clawing to add another dot or two to finish the picture.

'What we got from the case about theft?' he asked looking at Jack's shoulder.

'Not much. Cameras didn't register anyone coming in or out, same pictures of corridors and rooms. Also no evidence.'

'Did you check if the motion was stopped?'

At that Jack blinked a few times.

'No.' he almost growled and stormed out the door to call techs to check videos again.

\------------------------------------

He paced around the room diffusing all emotions gathered in the lab. They got everything they could from the bodies, now their best bet was on a theft case. Something irked him about it. There was a clue he wasn't seeing. It was irritating. They were dismissed for now but he just couldn't go home. In the end, the feeling of tiredness worked itself into his bones and he went to his car bumping into Alana. Kind and beautiful Alana who almost could calm his fried nerves.

'Hello Will' she smiled at him brightly.

'Hello, Alana. Thank you again for taking over my classes. I don't know who else I could ask on such late notice.'

'No problem, it wasn't colliding with my plan so it was least I could do after mentioning you to Jack.' at that she blushed lightly but with pure anger in her eyes.

'There was nothing you could do. He would come to me either way. I don't want to brag but I am somewhat famous...even if I don't want to' he laughed a mirthless laugh.

Alana looked at him closely and saw pale clammy skin and bags under his eyes. His type of clothes always more for comfort than fashion were rumpled and dishevelled. She looked into his eyes and he ran from the contact like always.

'And how are you feeling?'

'I'm as okay as I can be. You know why.' he sighed.

'Too many were-people around?'

'Could be worse but Jack emits emotions for at least 4 more.'

At that, Alana laughed sweetly and Will just had to grin in answer.

'Oh, and how talk with Doctor Lecter went?'

Will's brows furrowed at that. Why did Alana know about it? Did she know what happened there? Oh hell, he would be the most popular topic of rumours for a month. But how? Jack wouldn't tell a soul, would he?

He schooled his expression to neutral interest and looked at her again.

'How do you know about it?'

'Oh, I recommended him to Jack. He's my mentor way back when I was studying at John Hopkins.'

Well, that explains why his presence didn't disrupt him that much. Alana knew better than anybody how he reacted to the presence of too expressive were-people.

Some time ago he had a meltdown because of them. Violent meltdown in more ways than one.

He was aware that Alana meant good but it didn't change the fact that he didn't want someone looking into his brain. The man had too much control for Will's liking, even humans weren't that composed, always giving something away. The fact his scent making him Dr Lectre's perfect mate even more disturbing.

'Thank you for your concern Alana, truly-'

'But' she sighed.

'But I don't need a therapist. I can control it. I'm doing a lot better. I didn't have an accident in years.'

'You didn't work in tight space with were-people for long periods Will. I worry about you and I know Hannibal can help you. Yes, he is a were-cat but it will only help you to build immunity to other were-people. He's also specialising in were-people psychology and psychopathology. You can only gain from this relationship.'

She almost begged him adding more promises. He couldn't tell her what happened in Jack's office, it would be too much. It sounded like a joke to him, and he was there. He didn't want to know how the rest reacted to that. The pretentious wealthy were-cat psychiatrist finds his perfect mate in the unstable and unsociable male patient? It could only end in catastrophe but Alana would not help him if he didn't "help himself" by at least trying this therapy thing with Lecter.

'Okay, I will try but if it ends badly it's on your head.'

'Fine. But if it won't I take credit for it too.' she grinned at him.

'First, we will see how the meeting will go.' he grinned at her with mirth.

The promise didn't mean he had to go there again even if it went well. He could feel the anticipation in his gut. The knowledge that he will be near psychiatrist for him to smell him again making him nervous. He still debated if because of anger or something else. He left this train of thoughts and got into his car. He had to hurry and make an appointment.

\------------------------------------

Hannibal had mixed feelings about meeting with Mr Graham again. The prospect of losing control because of his instincts and chemistry, not in the least exciting. He felt curious of course, as any contemplative person or cat would. When he came back home after meeting Will in Jack's office he still held a handkerchief to his mouth and nose. The last barrier protecting him from submission to his basic nature. 

  
When he finally let it go in his wardrobe to change out of Will-smelling clothes he purred at the smell, taking off his jacket to put it on a bed and scent mark it by nuzzling into it. He coiled his muscular body into it taking away the smell from jacket onto his own skin. His animalistic side has taken control once again making him want to ingrate his scent into the fabric and take Will's, to own and be owned. If there was no Will, his smell had to do. His animal thought of Will as his own already.

When he finally got away from the jacket he couldn't contain the pulsating energy in his muscles. The need to run, hunt and mate. Such basic needs quelched after a few deep breaths. Swiftly he took the rest of his clothes off and put them into the washing machine. It wouldn't do to react that way each time to his own clothes. After that he took a long hot shower to get rid of the residue of profiler's scent on his body, the sensitive nose making it almost impossible to ignore it.

He felt on edge as if he was about to lose himself if he went with instinct. He cleaned each inch of skin until it hurt and made it bright red but allowing to get rid of any traces of Graham. He took deep breaths again to allow himself to think without intrusion.

Feeling again like a person and not like an animal in estrus he went to his mind palace to find his balance, such fluctuations of emotions weren't common and he didn't fight with his own instincts that often. It made him slightly lose his footing.

After a few days of irritation at his beast, this persistent apprehension transformed into the curiosity that was Will Graham. The profiler was true wonder when it came to his humanistic beauty. Classic painters would love him as their model, lithe body and porcelain skin, chocolate curls framing soft manly features and pair of bluest eyes Hannibal had ever seen. He would have liked to draw him himself, such beauty should not be disregarded. And such a marvellous package contained a brilliant and wicked mind. Hannibal could imagine why he reacted that way if he was a typical were-person. But he was not typical. That's why the question arose: What his beast saw that he didn't?

From that day on he started finding information on the profiler, few of real interest. It satiated the beast, for now. And then Will wanted to attend a therapy session. It was definitely an unexpected turn of events but not an unwelcome one. Mixed feelings fought with each other for a few hours when he prepared dinner but in the end, curiosity won. There was no gain from not sacrificing something. He only had to take the necessary precautions before the meeting. There was no need to repeat the event from last time. Even if his animal growled at that decision.


	4. Chapter 4

Predation, in animal behaviour, the pursuit, capture, and killing of animals for food. Predatory animals may be solitary hunters, like the leopard, or they may be group hunters, like wolves.

This notion has not changed in the evolution of humans or were-people. Both species still have this basic need with often still is stronger in were-people. That is why they are more susceptible to impulses of hunting the prey and showing their strength. This still doesn't entitle them to act like animals when they have the same moral background as humans, are able to think logically and suppress each and every impulse. The thought can be in the human and were-persons head but it doesn't mean it had to be made into reality.[...]

  
Part of the monograph "The pathology of pursuit in the were-people" by Will Graham

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'It's so hard. I feel like a failure each and every time I try to get near someone on an emotional level.' Franklyn sobbed into his plump hands. He reached for tissues on Hannibal's side and looked at him with begging eyes.

Hannibal could only sigh mentally at his patient. He reached out his hand with the box.

'Thank you' Franklyn took the tissues and blown his nose into it. The sound made Hannibal feel clammy disgust going up against his back.

'The emotional and intellectual level you need Franklyn can be achieved by simple companionship-'

'I know that. That's what I am seeking.'

'Before you rudely interrupted me I wanted to tell you that this companionship can be with an animal.'

'A pet?'

'Yes. It provides what you need Franklyn, nothing more and nothing less. I believe it could help you with control of your neuroses.' he flicked his tail in irritation at discarded tissue on his pristine glass table.

Franklyn's eyes momentarily went to the motion and his pupils went wide.

'Cou-could petting help me with this?' he stammered.

Hannibal considered that observing his patient's eyes which looked from his tail to his ears. He could imagine what neurotic man had in his mind right now. He contemplated each response he could give and nothing could protect him from Franklyn's next question. He opted for the simplest one.

'Yes, I believe its a part of having a pet.'

'Th-then could I pet you? If you as the psychiatrist have a therapeutic effect on me and petting animal parts can help then wouldn't it double the effect?'

The words were containing so much excitement Hannibal wanted to shower in scalding hot water. Knowing what to expect and hearing it in real life definitely were different.

He cleared his throat and thought of hiding his tail but changed his mind rather sweeping it in annoyance.

'Franklyn, I'm not a pet. Being it indicated I was animal under human in the hierarchy ladder, which I'm also not and if you meant it I believe that it would overlap on speciesism.'

'I-I-I didn't mean to. I just thought-' he stammered and started suddenly to hyperventilate.

'Franklyn I must ask you to calm yourself. It isn't an accusation, just merely an observation. Now, take a deep breath in.'

He took one in.

'And now out. Do it until you feel calm, also our hour is up so I have to ask you to do the rest in the patient exit room until you feel comfortable to leave. Thank you and see you next week.'

'Ac-actually I will be this Friday. We had discussed changing the frequency of our sessions last week.'

At that Doctor could only give his patient a thin-lipped smile. How he regretted allowing this change in schedule.

'Goodbye Franklyn.'

'Goodbye, Dr Lecter.'

The were-cat closed the door and went straight to the alcohol cabinet. It looked like wine wouldn't do it today.

He decided on the Hakushu 18-single malt that combined the subtle smoke, crispness, and fruity notes with percentage allowing him to relax after the disaster of a session. He mussed the idea of referral, which was more compelling after each session with Franklyn.

He sighed and dismissed the idea. He could handle it for now. He looked at his watch and went to prepare himself for Will's session. At that, he smiled to himself.

\------------------------------------

  
'Good evening Mr Graham. Please come in.' said Hannibal opening his doors to allow his newest patient to come in.

Will was in his fitter clothes, he felt compelled subconsciously to show his finer side to someone who found him as a mating material. Even small affections making him an addict for more. More touch, more warm words. Pressed black slacks and blue shirt accented his eyes and dark soft curls.

'Good evening Dr Lecter. And please Will is enough.' he smiled a crooked smile. It was hard to not feel the anticipation of another meeting with the were-cat.

He looked at the doctor's tie and noticed quite a contrast in style from their first meeting. Now the psychiatrist wore tailor-made pinstripe three-piece suit in the colour of the earth after rain and flashy turquoise paisley tie. Before he looked more like a primary school psychologist- soft and harmless in beige jacket and slacks, white shirt and light-blue sweater with slightly tousled hair which now were combed and not a strand was out of place.

There was definitely something there, small concealed manipulation to change one's perception of him.

Well, it didn't matter, Will wasn't planning to meet a man in professional capacity again anyway, only allowing it so Alana could calm her fears and let him work out the puzzle of the case that was halfway done in his mind.

The doctor showed him to sit opposite him and he conceded even if he wanted to pace around the stupendous office. The leather chair soft and inviting to relax didn't help his restlessness. The nervous energy knocked on its prison of control to unleash it onto the world.

It didn't mean that he had to look at the man's eyes. Always wandered his gaze from one point to another. 

'Not fond of eye contact are you?'

'Eyes are distracting. You see too much or not enough.' Will looked straight at the psychiatrist allowing to get something out of him through his empathy 'And it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking those whites are really white or they must have hepatitis or is that a burst vein? So I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.'

The critique that was hidden under the pretences of question only made him more snappy. Well, this was definitely going how he expected.

Hannibal observed him for a second with a look of amusement on his face. Elegant hands clasped on the long slim crossed legs showed the regal picture.

'I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.'

Will squinted at the description of his mind, too much information too soon. The man shouldn't know that much, even from his smell. Unless it called to him.  
'I could say something identically different in connection to you.' he smirked at the gleam that danced in were-cat's eyes. His pupils dilating a little bit.  
'I know that everything you see and accept into your mind has a place. But not the way people put facts in boxes, more like a room for each trinket of thought and picture. Ones are full of light and others in the basement of your skull. All fortified by hard walls of control decorated in the lavish curtain of colourful flowers to hide things you don't want others to see.'

The portrait painted by Will's empathy made Hannibal's brow twitch in need to frown and lips to smile. He decided to show a smile.

'Its called a mind palace. Allows me to visit memorable events, places and people. More pleasurable in navigation than black space full of boxes.'

The profiler got taken aback a bit at the admission. People oftentimes more denied things about themselves that they didn't, not wanting other people to know about their dark thoughts and secrets. It showed that there was much more to the man then Will could see right now. Flowery veil obscuring the view.

'If I'm not mistaken you should deflect any attempt by the patient of getting information about yourself.' Will said with a small smile full of smug mirth.

'I have decided that I can not in good conscience have a therapy session with my perfect mate, even if dictated by connections between olfactory receptors and odorous compounds.'

'Then what is this?' Will quirked an eyebrow at the new change of dynamics.

'A conversation. Aren't you interested in such an unprecedented event as the one we experienced in Jack's office?' there was a sparkle in doctor's eyes, an invitation and challenge.

'As I said, I would prefer it didn't happen again. It happened once and there's no need to dissect it for clues of why's and how's.' he sighed rubbing his face with one hand. Of course, it was a lie. Lecter knew it and Will did too. The prospect of losing control over the smell of the same gender making both men curious and in need of deconstruction of the reason to quelch unsatiable hunger of curiosity.

'It doesn't have to repeat but it doesn't mean we should ignore it. As I said back then I never experienced such a phenomenon before. I would loathe discarding the opportunity to examine it.' argued Hannibal.

'Don't they say curiosity killed the cat?' he smirked at the little jab.

'But satisfaction brought it back, isn't it?' the corners of his eyes crinkled showing crow's feet, his eyes full of bright pleasure at the intellectual sparring.

'Fine' Will sighed, not putting up the fight when he wanted answers to some questions himself 'How do you propose for us to proceed?'

Hannibal shifted his posture leaning into the shared space between chairs.

'Let's know each other better throughout this hour, just most general facts from our lives should do for now. From there it should progress on its own. For each fact one given of the same value. Quid pro quo, if you will.' he smiled in a way predator would smile at prey. Will could feel gooseflesh on his skin, not really knowing if made by excitement or apprehension.

'And how we decide on the value?' Will licked his lips in anticipation.

'As I am the curious cat that you mentioned I can begin and you can value.' the doctor smiled salaciously making Will swallow accrued saliva.

And so they talked. Small little details from their life. First about their fields of work, schooling, lifestyle. Each topic extended to other smaller ones like a trunk of a youthful tree growing new branches which had grown even smaller ones and spread between them enclosing the two men. Taking them away from the plains of the world. Then the buds appeared but the hour was up.

Will was first to notice they spent more than 30 minutes longer in the doctor's office.

'I'm sorry for overstaying Dr Lecter. I lost track of time, but so you did thou.' he smirked, somehow feeling closer to the were-cat.

The conversation was fervent and engrossing, one learning about new things from another, equally invested in it and being able to find small nuances in each other's speech.

But the most destabilizing fact was that the were-cat didn't overwhelm him. Didn't push any emotion or expression which Will didn't want to mirror back because the atmosphere dictated it. It was freeing, he could breathe but not like with his dogs. There was a major part of understanding one another and accepting it. He knew some facts the psychiatrist has given were underhand so he would give up his own of more value, like the abandonment by his mother or frequent moving between the states with his alcoholic father. Will felt he showed more of his belly than the man opposite him but could be only because of his own hesitancy in breaching the subject of man's were-legacy. It was often the topic of taboo between were-people as they got their independence quite recently if looking from the perspective of time.

'Please, call me Hannibal. It is only fair as I call you Will, also I found myself in throes of interest so I can't say I'm sorry cause I know I will soon be apologizing again and you’ll tire of that eventually so I have to consider using apologies sparingly.'

Will blushed at the admission and looked at Hannibal's shoulder, feeling the warmth spread in his stomach. The were-cat wasn't absorbed only in the way his mind worked, he wanted to know more about Will himself as if looking at him like a person, not a tool, like a future mate.

This train of thoughts had to be stopped rapidly or it would make him even redder and overheated.

The blush on Will's cheeks made Hannibal want to lick it, even without the scent which was blocked out by herbal salve in his nose, he wanted to do a lot of things to this odd creature of fear, unfathomable strength and potential.

They stood in silence for few seconds longer taking in everything that transpired. Will was first to break the silence.

'Thank you for the meeting....' he pondered for a moment and said 'Hannibal. And goodnight.'

The pleasure delicately painted itself on Hannibal's features was evident at the way Will spoke his name. He wanted to hear it more often. His beast demanded to hear it every time they met.

'It was a pleasure Will' he practically purred the words making the profiler feel warmth spread from his stomach to his groin.

'And goodnight.'

Will left and Hannibal closed the door when he couldn't see Will's retreating back anymore.

The development of the connection was overwhelmingly fast even for his social skills. And there was no foul play from being susceptible to the scent. It looked that his nose had truly found him someone truly interesting.

\------------------------------------

He parked beside the small log cabin and stepped out from the car. He looked around taking in the view of omnipresent green nature thanking God again for being able to live like this. His house miles away from filthy city overpopulated by prey.

He took in a deep breath of clean air and felt his muscles contract when he smelled it-the young doe. Created to sate the hunger of the predator with her sweet nutritious meat. He licked his lips at the thought, feeling himself salivate.

He saw her at the edge of the forest and meadow. Lithe, beautiful with big black eyes enclosed by even bigger lashes.

But it wasn't the time. He had artwork to do and full freezer of meat. And true predator never lets meat spoil or go to waste. He didn't need the doe, she was small prey for him now. He got himself hooked on bigger and more dangerous game.

He saw the doe jump into the woods and he suppressed the need to run after her and went in the direction of the barn.

There was much to be done when he finally knew what to do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being a little piece of shit and not updating! TnT   
> Writing thesis and finals really give me a hard time and I don't have any time or motivation to edit the whole thing ehhh I'm sorry again!  
> Also, thank you all for kudos and comments <3 love anything you can give! I'm an attention whore so yeah.   
> Remember to add a suggestion for Netflix to create Hannibal season 4!!!!!! God, fucking please for season 4!  
> Peace out

  
The evolution of were-people is a mystery to this day. The genetics does not allow us to mix organisms from different species with each other in laboratories or in nature. The sparse cases like a mule or male liger are infertile and can not be created on their own. So how could something so scientifically impossible come to life?

People have their own ideas about it. Some belief its God's creation, on various steps of the hierarchy ladder depending on religion.

Other concept is more scientific but taking more science fiction path, as were-people were created by aliens or are descendants of them.

Of course, either concept doesn't have any scientific proofs of such occurrences but it was always easier to get even unlogical answer than live with no answer at all and ask questions all the time.

And thanks to those questions it could be deducted that our predecessors were the same beings in the early cretaceous era and started to inbreed between different species on the Pangea allowing to evolve the were-people in the same timeline as humans.

Most of the were-people have mammalian ancestors but there is a small percentage of reptile, amphibian or bird heritage allowing us to see that the effects of evolution based on environment and species that cohabitated in it.

Furthermore, we have numerous amount of skeletons which show changes in the anatomy of were-people and humans the same. Questions about missing links empower us to seek the answers to them.

Part of the chapter "God?Aliens?Evolution?" from " Introduction to were-culture and evolution" by Veronica L. Vasin

  
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He looked at the newly acquired medium for his artwork. He couldn't contain a gleeful smile as he looked at the wonderful bone and muscle structure of its jaw, strong and vicious, being able to provide such great pain if used on the living thing. The round furry brown hyena ears provided more personality into human features making it more animal. The face was one thing but then he looked down at the light-blue blanket which covered the rest of the body. He knew what was under it, could imagine each tendon, mole and placement of hair. Also beautiful half-formed paws. Underdeveloped but still superior to human feet. It was time for the sponge bath again. He gave it to both of them two times a day. He couldn't allow the skin to be dull and grimy. It had to perfect for the project. He checked the IV bag and responses of the eyes and went to work. Fast-working hands gave surgical in its precision sponge bath and went to the other man-a were-fox. He almost didn't want to work on him. Everything was wrong, the only animal features were carrot-red hair, whiskers on his cheeks and eyes which couldn't even be used. He didn't know why he even took in such lacking medium.

Oh yeah, he could remember now. At that time the man was such alluring minx, with the true character of a stereotypical fox.

The emotions took control over him and now he had to pay the price. He wouldn't be wasteful, the God never is. Everything had its place.

He went with his routine: check eyes and pulse, change IV and wash. Finished he went to get to more interesting work.

He had a new exhibition in plans as the previous one got so much attention. He could only preen at the attention, even if they still didn't know who was the true master, the true God and predator.

  
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'Hey boy! Wait for me!' the girl shouted running and laughing after energic golden retriever. She loved how the little guy always would run around and brought her to the best spots. Thanks to him she already saw meadow full of wildflowers, that some part of them now sat in the vase in the kitchen, or river so blue and pretty it looked like from a fairytale. She had the puppy for 5 months now and it always showed her new world hidden away in the woods near her house.

'Slow down! I or you will get lost here!' she shouted when the retriever yipped excitedly and halted to a stop. 

She couldn't catch her breath already, they went quite deep into the woods. The air was crispy cool as it was the middle of autumn. Typically colourful leaves and trees began to look darker and darker. The atmosphere was thick somehow, she hated to remember her older brother's scary stories, always making her hide under the think blanket when he laughed with a flashlight in the hand. Always at the end making this scary flashlight face. She took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the golden cute puppy which wanted to catch her attention. There was no need to be afraid of scary monsters her brother told her about, she had her heroic puppy and daylight. Nothing happened in the daylight, monsters were afraid of it.

'Okey, Poki I'm coming. I'm coming. What you wanted to show me today boy?' she looked at the ground where the puppy sniffed and went to investigate. Maybe there was a treasure chest hidden by the pirates? She couldn't contain the imagination and smiled broadly.

'What's there boy? Oh, you are so cute! I will help you there.'

The dog started digging the ground but its small paws couldn't help him much so the girl dug beside him.

'What is that boy?' she took the big bone out of the ground and inspected it under sparse light filtered through green leaves. It was strange-looking as if it didn't belong in the forest. The puppy started nibbling it passionately so she threw it for him to retrieve. But he didn't, he went for the bone but then changed the direction and started to jerk something with its small jaw.

'Oh boy, come on. You should know how to retrieve a stick, well bone, already. What you found again?'

She went to the puppy and saw what adorable golden puppy was so interested in.

The ever-piercing scream went through the silent woods.

\------------------------------------

'It is not needed anymore. I got my fill and the rest goes to nature. Nothing goes to waste.'

Graham opened his eyes and signalled Jack's team to come back. The gruff were-wolf stomped through the scattered evidence to Will. It was hard to get to the centre of the makeshift carcass dumpsite. It was just minefield made out of body parts. The techs spotted a new part every minute. Some just bones, oftentimes with strips of flesh nibbled by forest animals. Maggots already found their nests in bigger chunks like skulls or ribs, eating away evidence. All of it scattered around for few kilometres in each direction.

'This doesn't look like the meticulous work he did with the fifth victim.' murmured Jack looking around the site. For now, there weren't any reporters but they would soon come. Like flies smelling the shit and hovering around it. It didn't help that they couldn't cover the whole site thanks to understaffed police stations in Pennsylvania. Fucking budget cuts.

'We won't find anything on those bones probably or we get to him earlier than getting information from this site. He knows it, and wants it.' Will sighed and rubbed his chin.

'So no more deaths? His job done now that he found a way to mount them?' Jack asked with a sceptical look on his face.

'I doubt it. More like he's taunting us. He shows that even if he leaves evidence in plain sight it won't help us in any way. In any case, it's just a by-product of why he really did this.'

Jack cocked a brow at that in silent question. As always releasing aggravation at not getting nearer catching serial killer with a kink for were-people.

The shit show after the discovery of the fifth victim was so crazy that the management went all in for giving needed funds and staff but also put pressure on everyone as if the whole unit was 500m under the sea level. The suffocation was an inevitability if they didn't find the killer.

When the flies get to this gore made out of pieces of type 2 were-people the shit will hit the fan and there will be no one who could mop it from all the surfaces. The scapegoat will be needed and Jack knew who it will be. Fuck. Just his fucking luck. He took a few deep breaths not to create another bloodbath on a site. His instincts screamed at him to destroy with all that anger until it left his chest.

'He took what he needed from them and left the rest to nature. Like the prime animal predator. The rest used by smaller animals, insects, bacteria and soil.' finished Will.

'If he needed skeletons for mannequins and skin to mount then why we have bones with pieces of muscles and organs?'

'He took what he would use Jack.' Will emphasised and looked into Jack's eyes.

'I can't believe it.' Jack exhaled with a groan. 'Are you telling me that not only he's using skin to create mounted were-people but also he's eating them?!' now he shouted and everyone's eyes were on them.

'Yes, that's precisely what I mean. I told you, this is another level altogether. He's escalating but also degrades himself. I don't know what to think Jack. If he doesn't know what he is then how I'm supposed to know?!'

Will could feel chagrin pouring out from all his pores with cold sweat. The night terrors didn't help either. He found more peace in a black thick syrupy liquid that enclosed him in the darkness when he shut down than in what was waiting on the surface.

Both men looked around themselves, techs and local police looked down and went to work. The spectacle was over. New facts saved at the back burner. This investigation could only end in catastrophe now.

Both men went to their team avoiding everyone's eyes by looking at nearby trees, Jack scared away anyone who tried to challenge him by even glancing in their direction.

Price took the humerus from the ground and whistled when he put it into evidence bag showing it Beverly.

'Can you believe that those bones were torn out from the body? The sheer amount of muscles on him would easily point him out.'

'Or he has a really good idea of how physics work.' interjected Zeller.

'If someone has such advanced knowledge of how to tear the body apart with bare hands thanks to science then we have a really big problem.' quipped Beverly.

'More experience than textbook knowledge.' added Will inspecting the various packed bones and bits of flesh. 'Like animal knows how to get to the source of nourishment in body, he knows how to dismember it without tools.' He looks into Jack's eyes 'like a beast by using only instinct.'

'Are you insinuating that its a were-person?' Jack's face became even grimmer.

'I'm not insinuating anything.' he huffed 'I'm stating the fact.'

Jack's badly put-on mask of neutrality completely fell. Now he looked like a crossbreed between huffing bull and growling wolf. Instantly the case was got even "better" and with each passing minute, it looked even more promising. The promise of the complete and utter fiasco.

And then the first reporter came. The mane of red hair passed from tree to tree hiding slim figure behind the bark.

Now Jack could feel his temples pulsing with the need to release blood from his flesh from any orifice to reduce the pressure in the skull.

'Someone get Freddie Lounds out of here and confiscate her camera!' he shouted as the journalist tried to getaway.

Two of the police officers went slowly in the direction shown by Jack. At that Freddie bolted. She ran zigzagging between the old coniferous trees.   
And so another drama began for onlookers pleasure. 

The journalist didn't escape far away, without the proper training she couldn't match with officers which circled her and incapacitated her, tackling her to the ground.

'That's how you handle ladies? Not even a drink or coffee?' she sneered with eyes full of calculating mirth. Not her first or last time being brought to the ground for ferreting around FBI's crime scenes. No one knew how she always got there right after them.

'I assume you are aware why you were detained, Ms Lounds?' asked Jack looking at her with full-blown hate and contempt.

'For having a peaceful walk around the woods?' she taunted with faked innocence.

'For trespassing Ms Lounds.' he had to exhale all the air from his lungs to not lunge at her. 'Get her memory card.' 

'Yes, sir.' one of the officers got the small digital camera and pulled out the card. She didn't even protest, only looked mildly annoyed at the whole ordeal.

'Now Ms Lounds, I believe its time for you to be off on your way. On the other side of the tape.'

'I suppose it is.' 

'Get her to the police station and write a report.' he looked at the officers 'You won't get away with a clear file this time.' Crawford looked at her full of hellish satisfaction. She didn't even flinch, not the first nor the last time she had got something written there. 

'Off you go.'

And so they went in the direction of the tape. However, no one saw a small self-satisfied smile playing at Freddie's lips as they left.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for all the mistakes, I tried to make it as coherent as it was possible but my English sucks and I'm not a robot to not make mistakes. If someone is interested in beta-reading this story I would be in 5th heaven.  
> Have fun with this small monster of a chapter!

'How in the name of God she got those photos?! We got her memory card and there was nothing on her besides that!' roared Jack looking at the screen of the laptop in the lab.

They were in the middle of inspecting remains of the 4 victims, which were already confirmed. The problem was that not everything was there, there was, for example, missing skull from 2nd victim or pelvis from 4th. There was a possibility for animals to take them, but it didn't sit right with Will. He could feel it crawling under his skin, whispering into his nerves that it wasn't his design. Why would skin be such a precious thing and discard the rest? Artist, God, predator. The killer was all of them but at the same time neither, instead of linking them he struggled with the connection, each persona fighting for taking control.

He didn't listen to Jack's loud complains about Lounds, there was no point. He looked at the white wall of the lab, unblinkingly, as if it held all secrets to this case. And maybe it did? If only Jack didn't scream again and throw his concentration out of the window.

'You are telling me that now?'

'She hadn't used anything like that before.' said Beverly sizing up Jack. His shouts and tantrums hadn't made an impression on her. Growling didn't either.

'My niece used something like that last Christmas. Its called the Cloud and you don't need waste memory on phone or laptop, just get access to the Internet! It also can automatically remember all files! What are the times we are living in!' exclaimed Price smiling with a dopey smile. Jack looked at him as if to tear the poor optimist apart. Beverly can only facepalm for Jimmis obliviousness.

'Nothing to be done with that now. The higher-ups already called and we have a press conference tomorrow.' he looked by everybody and his eyes stayed at Will 'You coming with me.' it was the statement, no question in it, just pure need to dominate, and if the situation couldn't be then Jack had to use his squishy toy that was Will Graham.

The problem was that Will couldn't come back to his original shape like a toy. There was always some dent left after he used Will.

Will only waited when the shape will become a caricature of its original. Distorted and monstrous. He shuddered at the thought, there was no point to go down this rabbit hole, they needed to save lives. Having said that the press conference wasn't in the package.

'Why me? I'm no material for media.'

'You are the best profiler we have. This is enough for them to get off our back for a little while.'

'No, it won't. They need more than fragments of a profile, Jack. I won't handle it.' he could feel the whine and scream bubbling deep in his throat. He swallowed it and just looked at Jack with begging eyes.

'Better this than nothing. We have no other clues as to where to find him or when. You have to do it Will.' and that was it, no space for another argument. Will could give Jack at least 5 reasons why he shouldn't go there but Jack wouldn't even consider them, the die was already cast. Will just nodded resignedly.

\------------------------------------

The whole press conference wasn't as bad as he thought it could be. Only a few questions were directed towards him, the rest concentrated on Jack as he was the one who should have the situation under control instead of this dumpster fire. No one was interested in scruffy profiler who said maybe 2 sentences throughout the whole ordeal. 

  
The problem emerged when the public got to know about the conference and gathered before the building chanting "to know the truth", "calling FBI's bullshit"," justice for were-people" and "need to stop the purge". Some even accused government and police of the killings as the remains of speciesist's ideologies. The mass of human and non-human bodies started fighting their way to the doors. The security and local police tried to take control over the situation but there was not enough of them.

As Will and Jack left the building first they got attacked by reporters from more of the gutter press which were not allowed at the conference.

'Do you believe its the work of the group of speciesists?'

'Was it governor Karl Jameson- the well known right-wing speciesist?'

'Is the news presented by Ms Lounds were true? The taxidermist is a cannibal?'

Question after question was shouted making Will's head spin with the pressure. He really needed his aspirin or his brain would blow up in his own skull.

As he was reaching for it the next wave began. Were-people and pro-were-humans started attacking from all directions, pushing Will and Jack into each other and police officers who tried to stop the crowd but there was too many of them.

They were squeezed like sardines in a can until one of the officers fell down and through the breach in security wall people started to tug and jerk Will's and Jack's clothes with clammy hands, pull their limbs and scratching the skin.

Will couldn't help not looking, his eyes were on the pavement before, now travelled to eyes of furious mob.

And he saw. Saw the cry for help, the madness, the rage. All the ferity that was hidden away by a mask of civility. Deep dark woods in the eyes of were-people called him and so he went. Deeper and deeper into them listening to the howling of the wolves and as he looked up he saw a Blood Moon shrouding the woods in a red veil.

He couldn't look away from the sight, it was so beautiful and there was summoning in the reflected light and so he howled with the wolves.

And he lost it.

When another person took hold of his arm and yanked it, he lost his last lifeline in a form of aspirin and growled.

First, no one heard it beside the offender, the man stilled for a second and looked into profiler's eyes. There was no person there anymore, only animalistic response to fight or flight question. And here the answer was to fight. The hindbrain of the man told him to run, there was more powerful predator before him that will attack any minute. Slowly he took away the hand from Will's arm and started to back away, fear coloured his features but his movements were slow, not to agitate the beast in the room. 

But the action wasn't lost on the wild thing-if you didn't fight it meant you fled, and if you fled you were prey. A prey to be chased.

The louder growl left profiler's lips and another few pair of eyes were staring at him, one of which was Jack's. At first confusion painter his face but then he noticed how his best tool in the box slightly crouched to spring like a lion under the bushes on the unaware antelope. Instincts quickly told him what was going on and the Alpha in him trashed to reassert dominance over his underling. He took hold of Will's body in the bear hug from behind and roared for people to let them leave. Now everyone's eyes were plastered to their fighting forms. Will trashed and hissed trying to bite and claw his way out from Crawford's hold but he already took him into the chocking grip and allowed only that much oxygen to Will's lugs to not kill him outright. 

The security wall stood up again and forced their way through the now-silent crowd. Not many saw a were-person go feral and no one saw a human that way but no one knew that Will was one, so they let them through. They knew if they didn't this protest could truly end up in the blood bath when all were-people present would lose to instincts on their own.

The security had spare tranquillizers for that kind of cases and when Will was finally deposited in the back seat he got one in the shoulder and other in the tight. They were fast-acting ones and after a few minutes of trashing and bellowing, he was sleeping like a log. He curled into himself like an injured animal and the last coherent thought was to strike when he waked up.

Jack looked at profiler's sleeping form from the front seat and only sighed.

Alana will rip his head off for this. He was well aware of the incident Graham had a few years back but he didn't expect for it to be so violent and out of blue. He couldn't allow for him to get this way, now when the force of the public was on one side and FBI's management on the other- they were the piggy in the middle and the only person which could help them get out was now feral and tranquillized in the back seat.

Jack could only hope that when Will wakes up he will come back to his senses but he still called Alana, better to have a backup plan if his hopes crumbled with Will's awakening. 

\------------------------------------

  
'I told you it would end up this way! I told you so many times! But no! You knew better and told me you would protect him! You told Will you would give him his silence! How could you?!' the anger was radiating from Alana like a halo blinding anyone who tried to defy her righteous fury. 

Jack backed away from her, wanting to put some distance from the berserker Alana became right now. 

' I know what I said.' he took in a deep breath to prepare himself for the words he was about to say 'I'm sorry, I was wrong.' 

Jack Crawford wasn't a man who said such words lightly, they were hard-won and full of lost pride. Alpha wolf shouldn't make mistakes, shouldn't endanger his pack, but he did and the animal in him whined at the hit to his ego. If he knew how to deal with Will's condition he would do it himself, silently, without any witnesses to his failure. But he didn't so now he had to listen to Alana's accusations and criticisms. 

'Your sorry won't bring him back to normal.' she huffed with irritation. What were words when they weren't backed up by actions? Jack could say sorry however many times he wanted but it wouldn't glue Will's psyche back together.

' I saw him in such state once and it wasn't to this degree Jack. He downright de-evolved, I never worked with something like this. The last time there was only aggression and fight or flight response present, now...' 

She looked at sleeping profiler. He already woke up once but when he attacked the first person he saw and ripped the chunk of their arm they shoot him again. Alana stood a little bit further from him in the hospital room but saw everything in slow motion. She felt like pray in the room. After that, they wound his hands, legs, chest and shoulders to the bedframe to not repeat the mistake. When he slept he looked like a kicked puppy trying to curl in himself, away from the world. 

'Now he is a full-fledged animal. He will respond to any attempt to bring him back the same way the animal will- with teeth.' She looked into Jack's eyes trying to convey all the contempt she felt for him. ' He will need medical assistance to come back and it can take days or weeks.'

'Isnot there a way to speed up the process? We don't have even days to spare! There's a killer on the loose and all our heads will roll if we won't get him.' He looked at Will with burning eyes, as if it was all his fault, to begin with. ' Call Dr Lecter. You told me before that he specialises in were-people psychology, maybe he can improve Will's condition. I need him with a clear mind.' He looked at Alana which was about to add something. 'And I will give him his silence then.' 

She looked at Will and then at her hands, there was nothing more she could do and calling Hannibal really could help with Will's state of mind. She hugged herself in tight embrace to calm the tremors going through her as the feeling of guilt started to eat her alive. 

With a curt nod, she took her phone and went out of the hospital. 

\------------------------------------

  
Hannibal felt compelled to obtain more information about the object of his animal side affections. There was no need to become a deranged animal every time he smelled profiler's scent and the best way to eliminate this vulnerability was to become immune to Will's smell. 

As every substance in the world scent could be poison or medicine. Right now concentrated odour of profiler's body was like poison to him, clouding his mind and losing himself to the instinct to court and mate and fight with anyone trying to get the attention of his perfect mate. Such basic behaviour was beneath him so he had to find medicine. 

This particular medicine came in the form of a sweat-soaked T-shirt laying in a laundry hamper.

Of course, he could easily get rid of Will but where was the challenge in that? The man proved himself to be more peculiar enigma than Hannibal could imagine from someone so simple at first glance.

When he read the latest article by Ms Lounds he couldn't believe how Lady Luck smiled towards him. He already planned to invite himself over to Will's house, without consent of its owner. Except now he didn't have to put that much work into it and had days to go through his things.

The house itself was simple and cosy, a type of place that exists for the sole purpose of living in it, not decorated with redundant trinkets or accessories, each thing had its place and function. The dogs were each to bribe with sausages, more of the couch potatoes than guards of Will's sanctuary. 

He looked around the living room- table for fishing lures and a wall full of different types of fishing rods, a motorboat engine and big cardboard box for it, shelves full of books, to them he paid bigger attention. Most of them were connected to criminology, psychology and forensics but he found some classics hidden away-"The Symposium", "War and Peace" or "Lord of the Flies" as if they are secrets which shouldn't be discovered on the first glance, the same way their keeper was. 

They are old but taken care of, he leafed through the pages and saw small annotations- some of them are questions others opinions and remarks. He touches black letters of the childish writing on the thin yellow paper of the "Lord of the Flies" written as a question to the question:   
“Which is better-to have laws and agree, or to hunt and kill?” - What if a hunt is a law and kill is an agreement?

Such raw thoughts in the young mind, not yet contaminated by the morals of the adults. Where they got buried away? They had to be inside his mind, waiting for the signal to break free. Hannibal could give them that signal, he could assist Will's potential come true.

He studied the pages of the book a minute longer and closed it, there was no point in browsing for clues in old notes, he had to dig it from the man himself. There was so much more in their conversation than the exchange of information, its was sparring of words, each word weighed and melted like iron and used in a sentence to create the sword with which they struck or defended. 

The priority of today's ordeal was to get Will's scent. Hannibal didn't have to look long, the laundry hamper was full, it looked that Will's nightmares were more often than he let on. 

Hannibal took out well-used T-shirt still a little bit tacky with residue sweat and without a second thought bought it to his nose. 

Typically herbal paste in his nostrils should protect him from any redolence of pheromones but it wasn't the case here. A small amount of it succeeded in getting into his mucus which olfactory sensory neurons detected them and transmitted the information to the brain where his beast lived and was caged. The roar echoed through the walls of his memory palace, the basement was open now for the beast to peak out at the outside world. 

The low whimper left Hannibal's lips as he could smell the distress of his mate coming from the piece of cloth. His pupils formed into thin slits and tremor went down his spine, his stomach clenched at another whiff of Will's odour. The smell was comprised of the salty tag of sweat and tears, bitter taste of suffering and terror and sourness of tiredness and malnourishment. The wail was louder now and instantly the dogs become interested in Hannibal, in response, he hissed like a housecat at curious canines curling his spine. His ears and tail spurted from his skin elicitating a moan of pain. He flicked it in agitation, ears flattened as close as they could to the skull.

He looked around the living room. The animal looking for a secure place to wait out the danger of vulnerability because of his mate's torment- one was as strong as his mate was. In the end, Hannibal's eyes laid on the cardboard box, it was a small closed space perfectly snug for him to wait out the worst of the meltdown.

He put one long leg and another into the rectangular box and sat down holding onto Will's shirt for fear of not smelling him at all. The three-piece suit was forgotten as he crumpled it in a rough manner. He purred lightly into the scent, even if it was bitter and sour it was still Will's. His Will. His mate. The thought didn't leave him for many hours as he was wrapped around the cloth until the sun was going down and the ring of his phone somehow woke up his human side. 

He took in his state and cleared his throat in embarrassment, even if no one saw him beside profiler's dogs it was unbecoming. Again his control was lost to the instincts, it looked that he had to pay a lot more attention to not scent Will's things in the public area. 

The ring played again and he looked at his phone - it was Alana. What could she need? He hummed to himself.

'Good afternoon Alana'

'Hello, Hannibal. I'm sorry if I interrupted you in anything.' her voice was small and shy. The psychiatrist looked around himself and at last unpacked himself from the warmth of the box with a hum. 'But the matter with I'm calling is absolutely crucial.'

'You haven't interrupted me with anything Alana. I will always find time for my friends. Tell me what's troubling you and I will tell you if I can help.' he looked around the living room again and seven pairs of eyes were on him. It seemed that Will's best friends needed time to themselves, he opened the door to the yard with fence and came back to his car to fetch treats for the dogs. Surely someone would come soon enough but they were acting respectfully towards him so the treats were in order. 

'It concerns Will.' she exhaled. 

Hannibal stopped in his tracks to the house, cogs in his head working rapidly to process the situation as fast as possible. He weighed his pros and cons- Will in the trouble was an opportunity to get nearer him, to explore his brilliant psyche and undoubtful potential, but on the other side, there was a menace of losing control again. Firstly he had to know what was the problem.

' I'm all ears. I will help in any capacity I can.' 

' I told you once about the episode he experienced with the type 3 were-person.' He hurriedly scanned his memory palace to get to the conversation. 

'Yes, I remember. It was a few years ago if I'm correct?'

'Yes. Well... the thing is... it happened again. Yesterday.' he could hear the shivering in her voice, so soft and frightened. He didn't reply, waiting silently for the continuation. Alana took a deep breath in and exhaled into the microphone. 'The problem is he doesn't come back, he completely de-evolved. He acts feral, but not like a human, more like an animal. He took a bite of the nurse's arm and swallowed it for God's sake!' the cry ringed in the earphone. Hannibal could almost see the slow roll of tears down her ruddy cheeks, eyes full of guilt and powerlessness. She must look beautiful. He took a breath and waited, it would be a fruitless endeavour to calm her down, she would go back to Will's hospital bed and like a dam patched with a glue her calmness would crumble and the flood would start destroying again. However, he couldn't leave her like that. He had a mask to maintain.

'Alana, I want you to take a few deep breaths and close your eyes to the world around you. Just tell me what can I do I will do it.'

'I-I-I don't know. I never saw him like that.' she took another deep breath in until her chest didn't allow more and said on exhale.' I think your expertise and the fact of your origin can at least explain what happened to him if not outright restore his humanity. Please.'

Hannibal looked at the sunset and couldn't believe how many favours God was giving him in such a small amount of time. 

He wondered absently when He will cash them out as he told Alana he will be there in two days with a smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you expect the box? I for sure didn't until I wrote it! I don't know why but even with all this angst it was hilarious to imagine Hannibal Fucking Lecter in the cardboard box.  
> Anyway, what do you think Will is? Is he really human????? Tell me about your theories.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little piece of shit for not updating for so long that even sorry in caps lock won't be enough.  
> That's why I wish you pleasant reading and just bear with me and my stupid schedule.

For the next two days, Hannibal prepared himself for the meeting with the source of his constant headache. In the end, he took Will's T-shirt with him, locking it in a ziplock bag. He used the smell in small quantities from the comfort of his own home. After the accident, he had to take time off for a week, as his flight was in two days and the amount of time he could spend in Pennsylvania was undeniably unknown. 

He also had to take under the consideration the fact that the reaction to even small quantities of Will's potent smell of fear caused uncomfortable anxiety flowing through his body from time to time.

Even his iron control couldn't suppress it as hormones were uncontrollable, even during cooking there was an edge that coursed down his spine to his tail, making it flick from side to side when doing basic preparations. It was simply unheard of for him not to be able to relax when cooking. 

He studied such cases, yes, when working with his patients. It was a typical response for animals-protect one's mate or family in face of danger, licking their wounds after the fight and when in pain. But it was the first time after thirty-four years of his life, the last time starving in the metallic coldness of their cage in the darkness of winter.

Hannibal has accepted the animal part of himself after years of self-taught restraint, tamed it even but now? It rebelled in the face of finding a partner, an equal which will provide and protect with equal ferocity Hannibal would. At least in its opinion. He could see potential in Will, the man wasn't easy to befriend but if you were able to get inside his forts you would be kept there and taken care of, like a precious part of himself, his own heart so savagely guarded. The easiest example was the love he showed his companions, during their session the tension left his body when telling about them, having the softest look on his face Hannibal has ever seen on a human being. Such tenderness wouldn't need to be fought by animals but by humans? It had to be won and be seen as cherished, Will would know if not.

This was another thing, his mind was terrific in the way it could harmonise unimportant details with a big picture and observe something completely different from people around him. Because of that, he had to keep alert at all time which provided him to feel more of a fascination with the threat he represented.

Two sides of a coin in so many ways. Budding equal of a mate or a clearly lethal risk. Closed-off man but full of passion and need for affection, if dogs weren't the most obvious indication of it. Simple in his needs but offering substantially more than most ever could. 

They complement each other on a number of levels which couldn't be seen by anyone really. Only his animal saw it even before he actually knew what kind of person Will Graham was.

Hannibal knew when to trust his instincts, it was like a separate being that explained to him what to do even when his logic said otherwise. It allowed him to hunt with more precision many could only dream about. But it was such a long time when it last took over the control of his body, almost thirty years. And it was for short periods of time, not like now, hours lost to the smell. His thoughts entangled in clusters of memories of those two meetings with Will and his smell of anguish. His body strung tight with the need to come to his side and make everything better.

The defenceless state Will was under could be proved to be as dangerous for him as for the profiler. There was a hard decision to be made and he wasn't sure what to do about.

So he decided to flip a golden coin, always sitting in his pocket as a taunting reminder of God and his schemes. A machine which was set running and left alone for the day of His return.

The night before his flight Hannibal sat in the soft leather chair near his fireplace and looked into the fire, contained by bricks and stones but blazing with energy, only waiting for being released and wreak havoc on the world. Like someone else right now, waiting for his expertise. 

He took the coin out and felt the engraving on it with a tip of the thumb. He took a deep breath and tossed it into the air. His eyes following the movement with the tail going up and ears forward.

Heads for manipulating Will state of mind with psychological pressure under duress. Tails for allowing his instinct to take over and see what happens.

He watched it and held it in his fist for a minute considering the implications of each decision. There were many obvious but also so many not. He opened his palm and looked at the tails of the coin. The decision made as much by him as by Him.

He breathed out and smiled to himself, the deep purr rumbling inside his stomach like magma only waiting to become lava as he reunites with Will tomorrow. His body a dormant volcano just waiting for the eruption when subjected to the inferno that Will Graham could be.

He stood up from the chair and went to the bedroom where the stolen shirt laid neatly folded in his drawer.

There was so little time to prepare for the source of the smell he will be meeting tomorrow, however, he wasn't sure he was so opposed to it.

There were so many things that could happen and he was anything but a curious cat.

\------------

'Eureka!' shouted Katz raising her eyes from the monitor of an electron microscope and looking at Brian and Jimmy.

'Did you know that word "eureka" was supposedly invented by Archimedes when he took the bath?' Jimmy looked around with a smile of a kid peacocking before his peers with a new fact he heard somewhere ' He suddenly understood that the volume of water displaced must be equal to the volume of the part of his body he had to submerge. Imagine that? Taking a bath and coming up with the basic hydrostatic principle?'

Beverly and Brian looked at him with as much confusion as one would expect after a lesson in "Jimmy's facts out of the context". Brian cleared his throat unceremoniously and signalled Bev to continue with what she wanted to tell them.

'There's tree pollen on those bones and it's not anywhere near the species that are in the vicinity of the forest. The balsam poplar pollen would have to travel at least a hundred kilometres to get to this place and the thing is that it's on all the evidence we got from there.' she said matter of fact 'It can't be a coincidence.' the last sentence was a murmur as she ruffled through the reports looking for something.

'You know that pollen can travel thousands of kilometres with a good wind, right?' Brian put his two cents in.

'Yeah, sure. But then why it's only on the bones? Also if I remember right it should be too cold for it to reside in such quantities kilometres away.' she finally found what was she looking for and gave it to them with a smirk for them to brief through.

The report was from the site, the analysis of the near proximity of the found evidence. The levels of the balsam poplar were almost non-existent. They both looked at Beverly with wide smiles on their faces.

'Well, eureka indeed, Bev!'

\---------

The flight itself could be pleasant, quick and luxurious but the company he was with wasn't. The middle-aged woman beside him was a type 2 werecat guessing by the overblown pupils, prominent whiskers and paws instead of hands. Also rather than allowing him to read Will's terse medical report Alana sent him, she flirted with him in the most obnoxious way Hannibal saw in some time.

Space between them was so small that he could smell the chocking flowery perfume and the salty tang of new sweat. Her paw always landing on his thigh or shoulder, he could feel the need in it to go even further but the common decency saved him from it. Her fake high-pitched laugh sent shrivels down his spine. Their small talk was so flat his attention was running away every few seconds to anything else but her. The bittersweet smell of free champagne served by a flight attendant, sound of the movie from the man's earphones before his seat, the silken slide of his cotton dress shirt or how the eco-leather seat has minuscule cracks in it from the long use. 

Everything was more fascinating than the woman beside him and her story about her meeting with new rising movie stars, the annoying woman was some sort of manager for young actors. And from what he could see probably a cougar in a metaphorical sense of this word. 

But with years came the need to create "perfect family" as in most were-people and the unfortunate opportunity showed itself in sitting beside him. The awkward advances were stopped only when they left the plane, she with a smirk on her face and Hannibal with her business card in his pocket. 

He could always have some distraction from Will's condition when he stayed in Pittsburgh.   
\---------

'Good afternoon, Alana. Jack.' he tipped his head as he interrupted their probably hundredth dispute before Will's hospital room.

They stopped arguing immediately and Alana glared at the head of behavioural science unit just this one last time before a smile of relief appeared on her full red lips. The purple-red bags under her blue eyes, oily skin and hair in disarray said more about the situation Will was in than a medical report he got. Her body almost vibrated with tiredness which accumulated through those few days.

Hannibal's ashen-blond tail instantly trashed with hidden frustration and agitation, the iron control crumbling for a second to be build up again as he stilled the movements of the traitorous appendage. The edge of the distressed scent still at the back of his mind. 

'Hannibal. It's good to see you. How your fly went?' she stepped away from Jack and started fiddling with her dress-a nervous tick of hers that she couldn't get rid of since university, always showing up in dire situations.

'It was bearable. The company I had appeared to become quite fruitful.'

'Dr. Lecter.' Crawford tipped his head and looked him straight in the eye with a challenge on his tongue. 'I hope that Will be able to come back to us soon enough.' 

The ever-present leader of the pack. Thought Hannibal with a mask of polite condescendence. 

'I will do what I can to help our dear Will become his true self.' He smiled scarcely and put his hand on Alana's shoulder tightening it slightly. The need for support and human touch made her almost sob in relief. 

The war for Will's well-being she had to go through those couple of days took its toll on her body and psyche. Each morning she screamed her hopelessness in the car before entering the hospital and cried in it after leaving. The emotionless nurses and doctors were one thing but Jack? Jack and his fucking case were eroding her mental stability. And Will was treated like and animal-sedated or trashing in his safety restrains. But at last, Hannibal showed up, which allowed her to breath at least for a minute.

As Jack wanted to add his three cents his phone ringed and with an exasperated look excused himself.

'How are you doing Alana? I can't pretend that I haven't seen a clash with Jack.' He changed his tone to polite concern and steered her away from Jack's sensitive hearing.

'Clashes.' she breathed 'There are no clues about the Were-Taxidermist and he's impatient to get his best profiler back.' She looked in Jack's direction with all the poison she could muster. 'He almost went there to slap him into consciousness.'

'Quiet bold of him despite knowing in what kind of headspace Will is right now.'

'He's restrained to the bed by ankles, wrists, thighs, chest and neck. He wouldn't be able to do anything. He isn't.' Her sigh gave away just how much it hurt her too. Always kind-hearted and worried for everyone but herself.

'I understand the situation but I still must see the full medical record. Without it, I can't proceed with treatment. In the report, you sent me you wrote that you tried hypnosis and light treatment. Was there anything else?'

'No, after the light treatment, he became more hostile and started choking himself with restraints. They had to sedate it again to look at the injuries. I didn't want to try anything else after that.' She trembled at the memory. The way Will started fighting to get out of them, even for the price of his own life was something she didn't want to see again. The most basic fight or flight response was so amplified that it was unknown how he would react to anything really. 'And he wasn't able to focus during hypnosis or more like wasn't even aware what I tried to do.'

To Hannibal's delight, the situation was much pressing than he had expected. With frustrated Jack going for last straws and Alana at the brink of the nervous breakdown his plan would be so much easier brought to life.

'Now then I will go through those records and I think you are in need of warm tea. There is a marvellous cafe with a variety of them near the park. Goes by the "Cat eyes". I think it would do well for you to relax for a few hours.' he smiled reassuringly and went to get the records from the nurse as Alana excused herself to go to fresh up. As he waited for her to find them in the system Jack came back with a grim mask on his face.

'Doctor Lecter, I must go back to the lab. There is new evidence that we need to examine. I hope that Will will be back with us soon.'

'As I said before. I will do what is in my power to help. I would like you to ask for permission to take him to a more hospitable environment. I understand the danger it comes with but the shock therapy I want to perform to enhance the probability of his recovery is only possible under that kind of conditions.'

Jack stared at him for a few minutes, the inward fight going on in him between keeping his pack close and already get Wil back on his feet to finish this case. He didn't want to take his eyes off him but with the tree pollen, there was hope to get to the Were-Taxidermist faster than just waiting for Graham's mind come back online.

'Fine. You can do what's necessary to get all this stuff over with. I will hand down the guardianship to you so you can have an easier way to do it.' He grumbled with irritation and asked the nurse to prepare the documents. 

The whole ordeal took a couple of minutes and Jack stormed out of the hospital to get to the lab as fast as he could leaving smug Hannibal near nurses desk. 

'Were you able to get all the documentation?' 

Hannibal turned around and smiled at Alana. She already looked much better than the time with Jack near her.

'Quite so. I think I will be able to begin the therapy first thing in the morning. Shall we?' He extended his arm in the direction of the exit and they went to the cafe.  
\-------  
Convincing Alana to take some time off wasn't the hardest task as she melted into the plush red wing armchair with a cup of ginger-honey tea warming her small hands. 

The weather was already getting chilly as the autumn hit full force with a cool wind and sun not giving much warmth anymore.

Hannibal just got to his hotel room in Kimpton Hotel Monaco buddled up in four layers to keep warm. It wasn't particularly critical for him to have that many layers as his body was much more durable when it came to the cold or heat but there was no need to deny yourself the luxury of having them, especially when they were of such quality.

He sat in the brown leather chesterfield and went through Will's file. There wasn't much of interest as he was under basic care-IV bags with 0,9% saline solution and enteral feeding tube as he was most of the time sedated with antipsychotics and muscle relaxants. The interesting bit was Jack's statement from the time he noticed profiler's change in behaviour.

As Hannibal read through it he imagined the way it played out- the overflow of emotions from all those people caused his fragile human reasoning to shut down and his basic instincts took over the control. It was an inordinate way to react as most humans still held that typical response to stress. Nonetheless, even the mirror neurons shouldn't make him de-evolve to this state and for him to be so natural in it. 

There was something in it, something he couldn't see just yet. As Will was human it wasn't possible for him to base his pure reactions on the animal instinct. At least that what blood table told him, but Hannibal knew better than to believe it. His own blood work came out falsified due to his extraordinary genetics.

There was a bigger mystery to Will's ancestry than he predicted which only caused the anticipation to tomorrow to heat his body from inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Hannibal? What is Will? What will happen when Hannibal gets feral Will all to himself? Smut? Blood?   
> So many questions and no motivation to edit!   
> Unless , my darling, I will feel some love.
> 
> Your kudos have some nice hot ginger-honey tea in the vintage cafe with Alana, your comments whisper naughty ideas into Hannibal's ear.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my darlings! I felt all the love you gave me so in return I give you mild smut and fluff! Finally, right? XD  
> I chopped this chapter into two pieces cause I'm a lazy fuck and I didn't want to edit almost 5k words at once.  
> So here's your piece of medium done meat and have some nice rumbles in the belly!

He didn't dress up this time, instead, he put on comfortable black slacks and fitting red jumper made out of alpaca wool. There was no need to wear something that could disturb his movements, of course, his suits were well-fitted to his figure and there wasn't much of a difference between them and what he wore now but it was unlooked-for to get them destroyed in the process of recovering Will's mind if it was possible.

There was no way of knowing how their encounter would play out. There was an unmistakable probability of it ending in the fight for life if Will felt threatened by him, which was the case every time he woke up in the hospital tied to the bed.

That is why he decided to go with a more open and soothing space that his penthouse offered-one of bigger rooms was fully ridden of any furniture and lined with mattresses and plush pillows imitating more enclosed space to hide for protection, creating sort of den. Even Hannibal could feel more relieved and secure there, he laid on soft cushions and started rolling in them pleased at the balming effect of them on his nerves.

The staff of the hotel didn't pay it much mind as it was typical behaviour for more old-fashioned were-people and the tip they got in return for well-done work made them so much more eager to provide Hannibal with anything else he would need.

The preparations were complete when the doors were installed with a locking mechanism, this time by himself, that would be easily taken off of the door without any damage to it.

Hannibal looked around last time if there was something that could be used as a weapon or be applied to get the door open and found nothing. He pulled a little piece of cloth out of his pocket and took a small whiff, the smell already faded away with time and use but there was still lingering and put Hannibal's instinct slightly on edge. As he foresaw, with constant exposition to it the effects were less severe and more advantageous than he ever expected.

The scent not only allowed him to build up the immunity to it but also the chemical reaction was much more different, rather than agitation there was the sharp edge of adrenalin coursing through his veins, his instincts more precise and his senses sharpened. There was ample of experiments he wanted to carry out with it now. He was very interested in the way other pheromones of Will could do to him.

For example, the smell of happiness or lust? Would their effect be as engaging? What kind of response his own biology would subject him to?

There was much to learn and no time to waste. He looked at his watch and put on his grey woollen coat and black cashmere scarf to fight off the frosty afternoon, the first ground frost of this year arrived today.

With a bag full of winter clothes for Will, he went to his rented SUV that had plentiful of space for Will's wheelchair and to sit him down comfortably, and went to the hospital.

The procedure of discharging the profiler from the hospital went without any obstacles and in half an hour Hannibal had his hands on the handles of the wheelchair where bundled up Will sat in. Hannibal went for more soft fabrics- Pima cotton for the sweater and wool for the rest of the clothes. Even unconscious and tied to the chair he looked lovely in them. The earthy scarf highlighted his chocolate curls and olive overcoat concealed the paleness of his skin. The werecat couldn't contain content purr at the sight of him under his care, he was sure that with enough attention the profiler health and fashionable choices would flourish.

There was plenty of time for Hannibal to get him out of the hospital and prepare anything that would come out in the future. The sedatives would work for another four to five hours and he also had to prepare himself for what Will Graham had become.

\----------

The ground under him was soft, softer than anything he ever slept on. It also smelled faintly of sandalwood and vanilla, he nuzzled into the faint pleasant smell and breathed it deep into his lungs. It made him reminisce of a warm cosy place, somewhere deep in the past, somewhere where he felt loved and taken care of. It wasn't fully natural smell but also not a chemical one, the perfume or cologne then, the thought somehow jolted him from the half-sleep he still was under. He didn't remember ever smelling that smell. His eyes wide open scanned the dimly lit room and slowly adjusted to the darkness. His heart thumping in his chest as if it wanted to rip itself out.

The next thing he noticed was that he was free when he combed his hair, with his limbs finally allowed to move he popped him stiffened joints and yawned in pleasure with little yip at the end. A delicate purr reverberated through the air and his eyes snapped in the direction of the source of it. There sat something in the dark corner of the room, the figure was hidden by the shadows and didn't even flinch when alerted gaze landed on it, a light from the street hit the windows and a pair of honey round reflections showed itself in the darkness only for a second, like lightning on the stormy sky.

Terrible stomach-churning growl left his lips with the promise of violence if the creature got near him, why there was someone near his den? It was his den now, soft and relaxing and perfect for protecting his family.

He growled again when the intruder got nearer on the two legs. His mind screaming at him INTRUDER! PROTECT TERRITORY!  
The human then, Will thought when he registered the walking posture, he also stood up puffing out his chest, his teeth bared in a second warning. He snapped them when the stranger was only a few meters away moreover changing his stance to the attack. He could hear the rush of his blood pumping through his veins, how it went in and out of his heart with stong thump thump sound.

There was some memory playing at the periphery of his mind when he remembered that humans didn't know the warning even when they saw one, he witnessed their obliviousness too many times when he was younger.

The intruder stopped in his tracks and hissed in frustration, a low rumble echoed, crooked white fangs bared at Will in vexation. He could see the human better now, no, not a human, not fully at least. A long blond tail thrashed from side to side and big cat ears were plastered down to the head, the blood honey irises almost swallowed by black as abyss pupils were staring at Will with undivided attention. Something quelched in his stomach at it, as if he almost could recognise the intruder.

But it was still an intruder, so he lowered himself, almost going on all fours, his fingers flexing in and out of fists with consideration and snarled throaty anew, his muscles tensing in anticipation. He didn't like the attention, it was a provocation, challenge for his den.

He could feel the necessity to bite, to tear and rip and taste blood if demanded but the man just stood still and hissed high and sibilant, his posture changing to that of a defensive one. It didn't particularly make him relax, his body still rigid with apprehension, he observed as the man hissed again and fluidly crouched, his eyes now more on the level with Will's, his feet firmly planted on the floor and his posture open. The hushed rumble left his chest again, but this time more pacifying, sweeter in sound as if the outrage Will felt wasn't what the man wanted.

Honey eyes followed Will's actions as he stepped closer, taking away the ground from the intruder. He still barked and snarled but now his mind wasn't whirling with the need to fight off the unwanted company, furthermore, it was curious in it. They started circling each other, observing each move and change in sound the other made.

Will was first to jump, his whole mass landing on Hannibal's chest. The rush of adrenalin, noradrenaline and cortisol went straight to each cell of his body. His blood pressure spiking, his body trembling with the increased release of energy. He couldn't hear anything, the grunts and growls lost somewhere in the void of his mind, his eyes only on the werecat and his sharp fangs.

He tackled the werecat to the floor and they rolled on the carpet fighting for dominance, asserting their status and showing strength. Will's legs tangled with Hannibal's and overpowered them but then his upper half was crushed under the broad chest, his teeth ended up in the woollen sweater when he tried to go for the shoulder and he choked on the fabric, spluttering red threads that gone too far into his throat.

This was what Hannibal waited for, he took both of Will's hands between them with one hand and the other found its way into the silken locks near his nape. Will stilled with his movements when he felt the hot puff of air on his exposed neck, the paralyzing panic only echoed in the surge of heartrate as his body was motionless. The goosebumps run down his body from his nape, cool sweat starting to bid on his temples and neck when he felt the werecat lessening the distance between his teeth and Will's vulnerable artery, he growled unconvincingly and yelped when a rough tongue licked the collected sweat on the thin pale skin.

A deep all-encompassing purr vibrated from the man above him, he nuzzled into him and loosened the grip on profiler's hair allowing him to snuggle into Hannibal and smell him- the same artificial scent of spices as in his den but now more pungent and warm, like not oversweet dessert with a tang of salty sweat, he breathed it in, something clicking in his cognisance with the recognition.

_Mate_

He nudged Hannibal's jaw to the side, happily yipping with pleasure when the werecat freed his hands, one landing on the nape of his neck, and the other on his hip, bringing them closer, touching from chest to toes. With the tightening of his fingers, he brought handsome face to his own, he studied the features before him, something nudging at the back of his cerebrum. He glowed with the command for his mate to open his mouth but the answering hiss and anger boiling in black eyes stopped him in his tracks.

 _Something is wrong._ he thought _Mate should not hiss in greeting._

There some miscommunication there but he didn't want to irritate his mate again so instead he licked his cheek, nose and lips and whimpered at him sweetly. Dark eyes blinked a few times and smile bloomed on Hannibal's lips opening them for Will to lick into them, his hands carding through curls and petting them with satisfaction.

Will mapped the interior of his mouth, learning the taste of his mate, of eaten salmon salad and drunk rich coffee, slight taste of toothpaste and his own sweat which remained on the coarse tongue, the unevenness of the crown, pits and fossas of the teeth.

The greeting and apology changed to something more heated, Hannibal started to suck on his tongue, entwining it with his own, tiny spines hooking onto sensitive tissue and massaging it provoking Will's brain to produce even more endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. With their mouth plastered to each other and hands occupied with caressing and petting their hips took matters in their own hands and ground with unashamed rhythm evoking a piercing moan from both of them.

They shivered with each rub, caress and taste, desire coursing through both of them. Finally, Hannibal stood up and crawled on all four to their den, his tail up and quivering with excitement as Will scrambled from the floor and went after him, taking hold of his waist and draping himself over Hannibal who purred in delight. The werecat's tail coiling around Will's leg as if you hold him there and not let go.

He thrust against clothed ass and nibbled at Hannibal's jaw whimpering in delight as his mate flexed his back up and down to grind his groin against the mattress and his bottom into Will's cock. But it wasn't enough, the fricking scanty for both of them. With a frustrated chirp, he turned around and opened his arms for Will to nestle into him, which he did with delectation. He curled his body around him licking any patch of golden skin that came along.

Hannibal yowled lovingly when their groins met again and clawed at Will for him to speed up and put his whole body weight on him. Their mouths met again and they came with a moan between their kisses. Hannibal enfolded himself in Will, licking the sweat from his temples and neck and rubbed himself into him, marking him with his pheromones.

_Will was his now, marked and claimed._

Will licked into his mouth again, communicating his satisfaction with mating and trust in his complement. Both of them curled around another, Hannibal embracing Will's middle and Will protecting his neck with his hand and face from both sides.

They slept like that all night and morning until Will woke up to deep purr sounding through his skin to his muscles and squeaky little trills that Hannibal uttered as the disentangled unruly curls with his fingers.

Will looked up, his chin perched on the broad soft chest and grinned at his mate, the corners of his eyes crinkling. The sleep tousled hair and bitten redded skin of his jaw and lips made an enchanting picture to look at.

'Good morning Will.' said Hannibal without stopping in his ministrations and smiling at Will with the same joy painted on his face.

Will yipped again, understanding the words but being unable to answer, instead, he climbed further and licked into Hannibal's mouth in greeting on his own, who opened them in surprise.

When the excitement of seeing his mate died down he nuzzled into his neck, breathing the smell of vanilla and sandalwood and yawned unashamedly.

'I see you haven't come back to yourself.' he sighed and smiled at sad puppy eyes Will gave him in apology 'It's not something I'm deploring but there is so much time Jack will give us without any interruption. He probably tried to contact us both for some time.' he sighed again with irritation at the controlling nature of Will's superior.

Will growled in affirmation and annoyance and burrowed his face into Hannibal's chest again, hiding away from the world outside. He knew more or less what was going on around him and who was who but his more twitchy human behaviourism was still under the glowing cloak of embedded instincts. He felt content right now more than he did in the last twenty years and he really didn't want to spoil it.

Hannibal chuckled at the reluctance of his mate and scratched Will's scalp, massaging the sensitive nerve endings that made Will shiver, moan and burrow deeper into Hannibal. His hand going to cat ears to return the favour but the doctor swiftly took hold of it and instead put it on his neck.

'I would prefer to be touched here if you don't mind.' he smiled shortly and leaned into light scratches on his nape.

They spent time like that until a displeased grumble sounded from Will's stomach, his ears going pink at not being able to provide for himself but also his partner.

'I believe the breakfast is in order.' said Hannibal with a chuckle and looked out of the window seeing the sun with an orange tinge to it as it was going down. 'Or lunch perhaps.'

Both of them stood up slowly, entangling from the embrace and grunted at the same time at the squelching sticky mess in their underwear.

'The shower is probably a more desirable plan of action.' he looked at Will with perspicacity on his face and slowly asked ' Are you able to do it yourself?' and then smirked mischievously for a second as if the expression was never on his face ' or should I help you?'

Will looked him up and down, huffed with indignation and went for the door which to his further irritation didn't open up. He looked back at Hannibal and growled.

Hannibal stifled his laugher bubbling in his stomach and went to the door 'Allow me.' He crouched down and took off the blocking mechanism and opened the door wide and let Will go through the door first, a little smile playing on the corners of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the descriptions of their fight/sex are legit things that animals I modelled them after do, so if you know the answer to the question give me the ideas in comments. 
> 
> Your kudos make a fort out of all the pillows Hannibal gathered(which is a lot) and your comments use the rest of the extravagant (expensive as fuck) penthouse and fully equipped bar as our lovebirds take their time behind closed doors.


	9. Chapter 9

Will went first to shower and Hannibal settled on the wet towel for now and gone to prepare their first meal together that consisted of walnuts, baby salad leaves, dried tomatoes, parsley, butter and the liver of his last kill and brown rice as a side dish. Filling and nutritious meal to replenish all the consumed energy from last night. 

As it turned out the bothersome agent from the plane was an abstinent  
and her liver was in top-notch condition, like most of her body which a few more parts were stashed in his penthouse freezer. 

After getting Will from the hospital it came to him that he hadn't picked up any meat from the butcher yet which was unthinkable but as he remembered about it he recalled the obnoxious woman from his flight and went for a far more interesting occupation than waiting for Will's sedatives to wear off. There was still at least four hours to get everything ready, so plenty of time for small murder, disposal of body and preparation of his penthouse. 

The twinkling happiness energized his movements, making him almost dance in the spacious kitchen, a low hum of classical music playing in the background to the cadence of his steps. He could see the effects Will's satisfaction had on him, well, he could already see it yesterday but now without a veil of adrenalin-ridden lust it was softer at the edges, more domestic in its intoxicating simplicity. Like a true smile makes you smile back with a flutter of your heart. He expected the changes to his behaviour but wasn't aware how much the surge of "love" hormones would be promoted by a perfect mate, who still was in its core a stranger to him. He still could feel the tingle of heat under his skin where Will caressed and licked as if they were separate parts of his body. 

A chuffed yip disrupted his musings and he turned away from the stow where the liver was frizzling to look at fully naked Will Graham, droplets of water falling from his mop of hair. Hannibal's eyes raked the expanses of alabaster skin-smooth well-defined chest and shoulders, flat stomach with a dark trail of hair ending with not-so-average circumcised cock, which he felt in its whole glory yesterday, muscular thigs and calves peppered with dark curly hair.

In one word it was a wonder. 

Hannibal smiled openly, turned off the gas and went to dry Will's curls. As he dried them with a towel from Will's shoulders the sentiment of this situation hit him. It felt almost domestic, in odd but soft kind of way. He wasn't sure how he felt about the ease they fitted together. He already accepted the fact of Will being his potential mate but there was much to be done and even more to be revealed. 

The comfort he presented was given, the feeling of belonging would make Will much more susceptible to his ministrations. He hadn't predicted the fact that even without the compulsion caused by the scent he could feel so blissfully cheerful with the man. He had to analyse it further in the next session with Bedelia. For now, he could just allow those emotions to flow freely, Will wasn't even in the state of complete awareness so there was a possibility of the events being stored in his subconsciousness.

He smiled bitterly at that. He didn't want for this to be forgotten but if it was hidden deeper it would be so much easier to steer Will in the direction he wanted.

He finished his absentminded drying and looked at his mate. The stormy eyes looked at him with so much trust a current went through his spine. A mop of hair created an even more endearing picture. Without a second thought, he leant to kiss the forehead murmuring endearments in Lithuanian.

Will nuzzled into his shoulder and embraced him, taking hold of his dress shirt and crumpling it. Hannibal rested his face in Will's locks and breathed him in. He didn't smell so potent now, shower and soap taking away residue sweat pregnant with pheromones. He smelled clean and content, melting into Hannibal as he melted into Will.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes until Will's stomach protested that sort of treatment and rumbled loudly. Hannibal chuckled at red ears and redder cheeks and guided Will to take a seat on the kitchen stool. He didn't want ti to stay away from him and it looked like Will felt the same sentiment.

Hannibal resumed his preparations but was half-hearted about it, the lean creature before him undeniably mesmerized him to such a degree that he chopped the tomatoes the ring of a phone made him cut his finger.

The smell of blood got to his lungs and as he was about to take a towel to deal with an embarrassing injury he heard a low whimper cutting through the insistent ringing. He looked at Will, but he didn't look at him, only at his hand. A question bloomed in his mind but before even thinking it through his hand already crept toward Will. The profiler took hold of it, caressing the prominent tendons, outlined each small bone and first licking away the gathered blood with kitten licks bought the finger to his lips. Swirling tongue and sucking void of Will's mouth made Hannibal groan and moan, his cock slowly hardening at the fantasies that started to protrude his mind palace.

But the pleasant moment stopped at swiftly as it began when with a final lick Will deemed the wound closed and looked into the direction of the still ringing phone. Hannibal stifled his growl of disappointment and cleared his throat, there was no telling how he must have sounded right now, with half-erection and naked Will only waiting to be ravished.

He looked at the caller ID and wasn't surprised to see Jack's name on the display screen. He turned around from Will, there was no telling how much the sight of him would cloud his thought when talking with other people, it already had happened once, there was no need for a second time.

'Good afternoon, Jack. How may help you?' The polite oblivious tone rolling from his mouth.

'I need Will.' Jack almost growled 'Now.'

'I'm sorry to inform you but Will didn't fully come back to himself.' sighed psychiatrist with faked exasperation.

'You saying "fully", which means you got him on two feet and not growling at every person in two meters radius. That's enough for me.'

'I'm sorry Jack but Will in absolutely in no condition to perform tricks for you.' Hannibal almost hissed. This was unbecoming but the state Will was in was truly something unpredictable, there was no need to undermine his plans for Jack's destructive machinations. 

And if the little voice in the back of his head that screamed "DefendShieldShelter" had any say in that Hannibal wouldn't admit to listening to it. Even subconsciously.

'The process of recovering his conscience is a delicate one, where the silence is needed.' And that slapped him. He didn't give Will his silence once and all this because of that. They lost already too much time and now there was a new body and no evidence again. Press, were-people and higher-ups wanted to rip him apart. There was so much one man could do. He wanted to whine and howl.

Instead, he grumbled 'Get him back as fast as possible. Tell him about finding a new body, maybe that will make him get over this.'

Hannibal psychically and mentally stilled when he felt muscular arms circled his torso to rest on his belly and chest, the circular caress of Will's fingers slowly ebbed the aggravation away. He slopped against him and felt shockingly soothing hot breath between his shoulder blades and nack. He snuggled closer into the cage of profiler's arms and with more calmness in his voice he replied.

'As I said before, I will do what is in my power to help, but don't expect me to do the unimaginable. There is a process to everything, particularly in psychological overturns of one's mentality.'

'I understand, Doctor Lecter. But you have to understand that people lose lives, your people. We can't allow for it to go on.'

'And we won't. You take care of this case and I will take care of Will. Each of us dealing with their own Gordian knot.'

Silence echoed through the line and finally Jack sighed.

'I will leave you to it. Please, use any means necessary to get him to health again. Goodbye.'

"Goodbye, Jack.' He definitely will but not without a few suggestions embedded in Will's psyche.

\----------

'And how it went? Did our feral psychic become his typical psychic-self?' snickered Zeller, as he waited with the whole forensic team for the sign to proceed the site.

Jack turned and gave a glare worth a thousand words, then he sighed and massaged his temples. He was too old for this. He looked at the mounted skin of a were-bear, or their 6th victim Mr Akimasa Nakamura. The restaurant owner in his mid-forties who looked almost like a twenty-year-old with the well taken care of skin he had. The animal characteristics were more pronounced in the man, like Will noticed at the beginning, big frame and tall like a mountain at 2,5 meters, bear-like ears and a short furry tail. He was displayed in endangered species exhibit with taxidermied fish in his jaws posed like a bear during a hunt at the stream.

The victim once again was found by a janitor who came in the morning to work at the Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh. The same one from which the stolen taxidermied animals were from. Where a new security system was installed and one they looked through with cotton swabs for the whole two days. Jack could feel the beginning of the migraine, slowly creeping from the back of his head to the front. Will could come in handy now, not only for the murder but for his ever-present bottle of aspirin. 

'Will won't be coming.' he almost growled at Zeller 'Go ahead with it and finally find something that is not a false lead.' 

Beverly looked daggers at him, it wasn't anybody's fault that the balsam poplar pollen turned out to be a dead end when the results from research came in and it appeared to be harvested months ago and expressly put on the bones to create a small diversion. It was as good a guess as any other with all the evidence they had, which was a lot but at the same time none of it helpful in finding their demented killer. 

She went back to look for anything unusual( if mounted were-person skin wasn't unusual enough) and ignored Jack's constant growling and rumbling at everyone. Everyone was tired with all this, they didn't proceed one thing and another showed up. The guy truly had a really fast pace in his work, which didn't bid well for them. Only a few days ago they got bones and strips of muscles from five victims, not even full skeletons. Five bodies to process, investigate and sort it out like puzzles. This was one big never-ending nightmare spent on cheap coffee and in a shoddy motel. 

She unquestionably wanted to get back home and fall face down on the floor in the hallway to sleep for the rest of the week. But for now, she had work to do, and she damn well will do it to get the son of a bitch to face justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments!
> 
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